


Glitter & Gold

by LemonCakeDesign



Series: Almost (Sweet Music) [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood, Hurt/Comfort, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, and it's not very pretty, in which pike's past finally catches up with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22468111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonCakeDesign/pseuds/LemonCakeDesign
Summary: I am flesh and I am boneI'll rise, ting ting, like glitter and goldI've got fire in my soulRise up, ting ting, like glitterLike glitter and goldLike glitterWar is on the horizon in Ala Mhigo, bringing Pike back into direct conflict with the Garlean Empire, and into the view of one Zenos yae Galvus, Crown Prince of Garlemald.
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Series: Almost (Sweet Music) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535039
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Do You Walk in the Valley of Kings?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Do you walk in the valley of kings?_  
>  _Do you walk in the shadow of men_  
>  _Who sold their lives to a dream?_  
>  Pike joins a rebellion.

_Primus Frumentarius,_

_I write to you today with information I think you will find intriguing._

_In report E-6A02 (attached for your perusal), from Legatus van Hydrus, he mentioned an encounter with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and, of course, their so-called Warriors of Light. This is the first confirmed physical description we have of each, which will aid in further information gathering, especially as they begin their dealings in Gyr Abania. Though I have faith the Lord Prince will have no trouble squashing their efforts, a shield breaks where it is weakest._

_As useful as this information is, however, it would not be worthy of writing you a personal letter on it’s own. No, it is another element that draws my eye._

_Legatus van Hydrus described a Miqo’te male among the group, and took special care to mention his striking purple eyes. That, coupled with the wielding of a bow, leads me to a very interesting conclusion, one that I am sure you could reach as well._

_I have taken the liberty of dispatching an asset to locate and gather information on the Warriors of Light. If my suspicion is correct, the Scions do not know of their companion’s past. It would be quite ironic to use Asset 228’s own tactics against him, would it not?_

_Glory to the Empire._

_Frumentarius Accius_

* * *

“I hate the desert,” Pike complains idly to Valliant, as they make their way back to Rhalgr’s Reach. Their chocobos pick their way across a particularly rocky portion of the path, where they’ve traded ease of passage for less chance of running into an Empire patrol. “It’s hard to see anything with all this sun.”

“Don’t your people live out here?” Valliant responds, patting her chocobo, Larry, as he lets out a soft kweh of displeasure when one of the rocks shifts under his feet.

Pike lets out a scoff. “One: I’m a Keeper, not a Seeker, so they’re not ‘my people’,” he says. “Two: even if they were, I was born in Ilsabard, so I’m used to snowier environs.”

“You know, I hear some of those snowy areas are technically classified as deserts.” Larry steps off the path, and Valliant nudges her heels into his sides to encourage him to speed up. “Something to do with average precipitation rates or the like.”

Pike rolls his eyes, even though she’s ahead of him and can’t see him. “You’ve been spending too much time with Seren lately, I swear-” A feeling of dread cuts through Pike like a knife, and he cuts himself off as he draw his bow and looks around. Dust rises from some movement on a cliff near to him.

“Pike, what-” Pike shakes his head, silencing Valliant, as he takes aim where the dust disappears behind a rock. For a brief, tense moment, the air is completely still. Then a foper pokes out from behind the rock, and Pike lets out a breath.

“False alarm.” He stashes his bow and shakes out his shoulders, but the feeling of dread lingers. “Guess I’m just a little keyed up these days.”

Valliant nods, and she turns back to the path. “We all are. Might want to rest a bit at Rhalgr’s, though, kid. Keep yourself from jumping at every beast.”

Pike nods. Still, he keeps careful watch as they make their way back, one hand free to reach for his bow in an instant.

* * *

Thancred is, for once, having a pleasant dream.

He’s on a beach somewhere, familiar and unfamiliar in the way dreams are, taking in the warmth of the sun. He can hear laughter from somewhere nearby, nothing he recognizes, but the tone fills him with peace and joy. He looks to his right, and Pike is there, stretched out on a beach towel and looking up at him with a smile.

“Hey handsome,” Pike says, sitting up to meet him with a kiss. Thancred deepens the kiss, listening to the delightful way Pike moans into it, and-

He’s woken to the sound of his door slamming open, and he reaches blindly for the knife on his side table before registering who it is. “Twelve, Pike, is this building on fire?” he asks, bleary, still half expecting the Miqo’te to have been on a beach with him.

“Have you been in my room?” Pike looks ragged, eyes darting around the room anxiously. 

Thancred blinks. “You’ve woken me in the middle of the night for privacy concerns?”

A frustrated hiss pulls out of Pike’s throat. “I don’t care if you’ve been in there, Thancred. Just answer the question.”

“No, I haven’t been. And neither has anyone else, to my recollection.”

Pike curses, loudly, and he tears off back down the hall. Thancred sighs, reaching for the floor where he’d tossed his shirt before collapsing into bed. He snags it and pulls it on as he follows Pike out the door.

Pike’s standing at his own room, eyes scanning the place with suspicion. He’s got a knife drawn, grip so tight his knuckles have gone white. “What in Seven Hells is going on, Pike?”

Pike finally enters his room. “Someone’s been in my room. And if it wasn’t you or one of the _other_ Scions, that means we’ve had an intruder. Or have, if they’re stupid enough to have lingered.” He gestures with the knife.

Thancred looks around the room. It’s pristine, as usual, bed made to military precision and everything tucked into its place. “And you know this...how?”

Pike points to a pile of papers stacked on his desk in a neat pile. “It’s on the wrong side of the desk. And,” he flips up the quilt on the bed, to reveal an empty space under the bed, “the dust under here has been disturbed.”

Thancred pinches the bridge of his nose. “No chance you’ve misremembered what side of the desk you put your papers on?”

Pike stops short. “I...I don’t think so. But that wouldn’t explain the dust.”

“No, but the rats would. F’lhaminn’s been fighting a losing battle against them for weeks, now.” Thancred steps closer to Pike, and he grabs the hand with the knife in it. “Pike, when was the last time you slept?”

The dark circles under his eyes would tell him, but Pike confirms it. “A few days ago,” he admits, and he relinquishes the knife to Thancred, sitting on his bed. “Not since I was last able to get back here.”

Thancred places the knife on Pike’s desk. “I’ll have to talk with Valliant, if they’re keeping you from sleeping-”

“It’s not that.” Pike sighs, ears drooping. “I...I can’t sleep in the barracks at the Castrum. They repurposed the Garlean ones, and I just…” he trails off, staring off into the distance. 

Thancred steps over, sitting on the bed next to Pike. “I doubt I could sleep easy in that place either,” he says. “You could always teleport back here, you realize.”

“I don’t want people to think I’m running away, or that I can’t handle being there.” Pike’s eyes drop to his hands. “They look to me as a leader, as a role model and I...they shouldn’t. You know how much of a mess I can be.”

“I know that you’re just a man, Pike.” Thancred nudges him with a shoulder. “A particularly powerful one, yes, but a man like any other. Besides, if any of them look at you sideways, you just claim Scion business. I find that lets me get away with much, in Eorzea.”

Pike laughs a little, and Thancred smiles. It’s a sound he loves to hear. “Thanks, Thancred,” Pike says, leaning his head on Thancred’s shoulder with a yawn. “Sorry I woke you up with my sleep-deprivation induced paranoia.”

“If I wasn’t used to rude awakenings at this point in my career, I’d need to quit,” Thancred says with a chuckle.

Pike doesn’t respond, and when Thancred looks over, Pike’s fallen asleep nestled onto his shoulder. Thancred smiles fondly, and gently dislodges Pike to drop him on his pillow, instead. He goes to stand, but a hand snags his wrist and tugs him back into the bed.

Thancred resigns himself (easily) into staying there for the night. As he drifts off, holding Pike close, he doesn’t notice the shadow that darkens the faint light that comes through the gap under the door.

* * *

Alphinaud knows he should be keeping an eye on the Castrum, but the tension set in Pike’s shoulders is far more intriguing to him right now.

Though he’d like to say he knows Pike better than anyone besides Valliant, Alphinaud knows there are things he’s never shared with any of them. The few details he knows of Pike are hard won and, he’s almost certain, an accidental slip.

He knows Pike was raised in Mystrel, a country that boasts the highest Miqo’te population on Ilsabard, but nothing about his childhood there, or how he came to be in Eorzea. Alphinaud had actually asked Valliant if she knew anything about it, once, and she’d just shrugged.

“That’s his business,” she’d said, and Alphinaud knew that avenue was closed then.

Alphinaud knows, of course, that he should just drop the subject. Pike is his friend, dare say even a brother to him, and he knows how Alisiae would feel about him trying to poke into her business. But his mind worries over the subject of Pike like a dog with a bone, obsessing over what scraps of information he can get.

Pike shifts from the rock he’s leaning against, catching Alphinaud’s eye. “Pippin?” he asks.

“Mm?” Pippin’s clearly half paying attention, eyes still trained on Castrum Velodyna.

“You’re looking in the wrong spot. The towers don’t change guards for a few hours. The ground patrol, however, just finished, and is switching out.”

Pippin shifts, looking down at the patrol that, sure enough, is just returning. “Indeed they are. Thank you, Pike. Astute eye.”

Pike shrugs, leaning back against the rock. His posture is carefully easy, but the tension in his shoulders lingers. “Spend enough time around the places, you pick things up.”

 _When_ , Alphinaud thinks, because he knows Pike barely spent any time near Castrum Meridianum and Castrum Centri. In fact, he’d taken every opportunity to _not_ look at the places, even when it would have been really helpful to have him nearby.

The contradictions of Pike occupy his mind for the next hour they spend there, as the sun dips below the rocky formations in the distance. Until the distant sound of cannon fire interrupts his reverie, and Rhalgr’s Reach burns in the distance.

The battle starts chaotic, and only gets worse from there. Alphinaud does his best with what healing he’d learned from Matoya, trusting Pike and Alisiae to have his back, but it feels like it’s never enough. He saves one man but another dies, or he can’t save any.

It’s almost too much to see Y’shtola bleeding in the sand, but Alphinaud pushes on, gets to Krile’s side and does everything he can. He can’t falter, not now, when Pike and Valliant and everyone else is fighting their hardest.

Alisiae rolls through the dirt several yalms from him, and he can’t help it. He gets distracted. He looks up. Pike stands alone against the Crown Prince of Garlemald. And Alphinaud feels, for the first time since he’s known Pike, despair. 

Because Pike, primal slayer, savior of Ishgard, strongest person he knows, looks _scared_.

* * *

Pike had had the displeasure of being in the same room as the Crown Prince of Garlemald exactly once. He’d been assigned guard duty when he was in training with the Frumentarii, a test as much as a necessary job. Some fancy party for Solus’ birthday or something, Pike couldn’t quite recall anymore. He was not to be seen, to watch the royal family and stop any attempts on their lives if necessary. 

He was at a disadvantage for the test from the beginning. When you looked like the others who should be there, you could pass as serving staff or even, if you were bold enough, as a member of the party itself. A Miqo’te, though, they didn’t serve the guests very often, and there was no hiding his ears and tail completely.

But Pike was nothing but resourceful, and he had uncanny balance. After a brief reconnaissance in the palace (the day to day security left much to be desired), he’d found exactly what he was looking for. The thin metal supports in the vaulted ceilings of the ballroom were a perfect place for him to perch, bow in hand, and the vents would afford him access to the rest of the palace if necessary. 

He’d dressed in all dark blue, to better blend in with the blue light that tended to dominate the Imperial Palace, and had arrived well before the party would start to blend himself into the shadows and watch. And grow absolutely, utterly bored. 

So he watched the party-goers mingle below him, keeping a close eye on any suspicious elements his handler had highlighted for him, and fighting to keep himself from falling off of the supports just for something to do. Until a feeling of being watched had crept over him, and he looked down.

Right into the eyes of Zenos wir Galvus.

Pike should have felt many things: frustration at being caught, worry over failing this test, curiosity at the young prince, who was barely a year older than him. Instead, he felt trapped, like he was staring down the gaze of a starving predator. Primal fear, and it took all of his power not to bolt in that instant.

And then Zenos had turned away, distracted by something or other. Pike had breathed out a sigh of relief, and spotted someone furtively glancing around as they left through a side door in the ballroom. As Pike slipped into the vents and made his way in that direction, he told himself that this was in pursuit of a dangerous individual, part of his duty that night. It definitely wasn’t running away.

He hadn’t shaken the fear that had struck him that night for a long time, especially when learning he’d been the only one to have never been spotted during that test. He’d never seen Zenos after that, and the fear had left him eventually, fading to a distant memory.

That memory comes roaring to the surface when he faces off alone against him. It whispers in his ear, cold and slimy, that he needs to be afraid, that he’s just prey. That he should run.

Despite the fact that everyone is relying on him not to, Pike falters. He flinches. And Zenos wins.

The broken katana lying in the sand feels less like a small victory, and more like a reminder that he isn’t enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! It only took me, like, several months. Stormblood is hard for me to write, because I was kind of blindly clicking through trying to get to Shadowbringers faster, so I didn't have the clearest idea of what Pike was like during then. Figured it out, though, and I am excited to take y'all on this journey with me. Little Words was a romantic tragedy for me, so it's going to be a bit different in direction and tone from that, but I hope it works!
> 
> This one probably will not see as frequent updates as Little Words got, because I've got other projects I need to be working on unfortunately. If you like My Hero Academia and the Magnus Archives, keep an eye out! I'll have stuff coming out for those soonish.
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://lemoncakedesign.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lemoncakestream)! And, as always, you can find me playing as Pike in FFXIV, on Couerl on the Crystal Data Center. If you recognize me, say hi! I would love to chat with you <3


	2. In the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Do you ponder the manner of things?_   
>  _In the dark_   
>  _In the dark, the dark, the dark_
> 
> Pike deals with the aftermath of the attack on Rhalgr's Reach, and travels to the Far East.

Valliant is familiar with most of Pike’s forms of brooding. It was hard not to be, living and spending most of her time around him.

The first (and worst) is what she calls the “tragic past” brooding. It’s easy to identify, because you will not see Pike for at least three days. He disappears into the wilderness of Eorzea, finds himself a hunt with the Maelstrom or Clan Centurio, and unleashes whatever emotions onto the poor beast. The only reason she knows this is the tragic past brooding is the look he gets before he leaves; like he’s transported years away from his current body.

Then there’s the romantic brooding. Valliant would prefer this one over the others, except for the long, dreadful sighs and distant staring. And the fact that nowadays he was mooning over Thancred, which bothers her to no end. At least he’s usually happy over it, though.

Her favorite (if any of his forms of brooding could be called “favorite”) is his artsy brooding. The days that he spends, stuck on a poem or song or letter, staring into the distance while chewing on the end of his fountain pen or quill. He’s very easy to mess with in this state, eating any vaguely food-like object that is handed to him or walking into walls and chairs. The only downside was the inevitable three am wake-up Valliant gets at the end of it all when she’s forced to his new art. 

The brooding he does on the ship to Kugane is of a different sort, however.

Valliant had caught sight of him in several places now, staring into the distance with an unreadable look. At first, she had thought it his tragic brooding, just with no creature to vent his emotions onto. But even after their time in the Sirensong sea, he was still going. Still burning holes in the horizon with his eyes. Still perched on the highest points of the rigging, swaying with the wind and just about giving her a heart attack as he drifts perilously close to falling right off.

After the third day of it, she’s had enough. She doesn’t push Pike, him being so skittish and closed off and clearly traumatized. But she needs him focused in Garlean territory, so he doesn’t get his fool ass killed.

And so, she finds herself scaling the mast clumsily, muttering curses to herself as she goes. There’s a ladder most of the way up, thankfully, but once she reaches the cross section of the mast and the yard, she’s on her own. 

Pike’s perched at the far end, _naturally_ , because he has never made anything easy for her in his life. She debates the merits of calling him over so she can talk to him without risking breaking her neck—the power of the Echo may be strong, but probably not enough to save her from this high a fall.

The ship lurches as it comes into contact with a fairly powerful wave, and the bottom drops out of Valliant’s stomach. She shouts wordlessly, white-knuckling on the rope ladder of the mast to keep from slipping. The image of a fish out of water strikes her as she swings wildly around.

The sound of footsteps catches her notice, and she looks up to see Pike smirking down at her, brooding forgotten in the face of her embarrassment. “I thought you were from Limsa,” he says with wry humor, extending a hand down to help her up the rest of the way.

She clasps it with a scowl, and with some effort (and no small amount of help from Pike) manages to swing herself onto the yard and sit. “I was a fisher, not a pirate. The boats are a lot shorter.”

Pike grins at her, purple eyes dancing with mirth, and it’s hard not to grin back. But as the teasing fades, Pike’s eyes grow distant and the brooding begins again. Valliant sighs with irritation. “What’s eating you, kid?” she asks, nudging him with her shoulder.

Pike gestures vaguely. “A lot,” he answers. “It’s just been...it’s been a lot of people I’ve let down recently. Lot of blood on my hands.”

 _Oh,_ Valliant thinks. Guilty brooding. He’d looked this way a lot after Haurchefant had died, but she hadn’t considered he would blame himself for the Empire’s actions. “Look, kid, you can’t take that on yourself. It’s not your hand that held the blade. We’re at war, people are going to die.” 

Pike nods, biting his lip. “It’s not just that, though. Do you remember how I thought someone was following me?”

Valliant nods, but the confusion is evident on her face. “I thought we agreed that it was just sleep deprivation.”

“Yes, but-” Pike grips the wood under him tightly. “What if they followed _me_ into Rhalgr’s Reach?”

“So what?”

Pike looks up sharply. “Then it would be my fault-”

“They could have followed _anyone_ in,” Valliant says. “They’re well hidden, sure, but they were also training green recruits. It only takes one mistake, Pike. They could have followed _me_ in. Or Krile, or the twins. Would you blame any of us?”

“...No,” Pike admits after a moment. He sighs heavily. “You’re right. Sorry. I think I’m just a bit sensitive after...well, you know. And getting swatted like a fly didn’t help.”

Valliant wrinkles her nose. “Be kinder to yourself, I didn’t even last a minute against him. Knocked me right out with the others.”

Pike snorts. “I only lasted because of the heels on my boots. It caught on a rock and I didn’t go as far.”

“ _No,_ ” Valliant says, dismay in her voice. “Not the ones I keep teasing you about?”

“The _very_ same.” Pike smirks at her. “I _told_ you they were a good investment.”

“ _Heels._ With _plate armor._ ”

Pike laughs. “Have to look good when saving the world, Vall.” He winks at her.

Valliant rolls her eyes, but she laughs too. She throws an arm around Pike and pulls him in close, ruffling his hair a bit. “You always do, kid. Always do.”

* * *

Kugane is interesting, to say the least.

Pike definitely hadn’t expected to run in an Eorzean, let alone one tied to _Lolorito_ of all people, but he’s not the type to look a gift ally in the knife held behind his back, so he goes along with Hancock with little stress. He trusts Tataru to manage him well enough in any case.

Judging by the shrewd look on her face, she’s already planning it.

Pike’s eyes are wide as he and the others follow Hancock on their tour of Kugane. It’s an altogether beautiful city, with striking architecture and well-manicured plant life. Undeniably foreign to Eorzea, too, which makes it a nice breather. Pike loves the country he’s come to claim as his own, but an adventurer’s heart is rarely idle.

A building rises before him, and Pike stops dead in his tracks. The flag of Garlemald flies proudly before him, and for a moment, he’s not in Kugane anymore. He can feel the cold, Ilsabardian winter wind on his cheeks like he’s there, chilling him to the bone. He knows, to some degree, that he’s just looking at the consulate building, but to him he’s right outside the main headquarters of the Intelligence offices.

A hand falls on his shoulder, and Pike goes painfully still. “Pike?” Valliant’s voice is soft and gentle, but distant to him. “You’re awfully pale, are you alright?”

“I-” His breath catches in his throat. He’s not. He’s not alright at all, but he can’t exactly explain why. So, he mentally strangles the panicking part of himself, shoves it into a box labelled “Later”, and shakes himself. “Sorry, I caught a bad smell. Sensitive nose, you know, and the ship left me a little wobbly, I think.”

Valliant buys it immediately, her face softening as she squeezes his shoulder. “Feel free to lean on me if you need it, alright?” she says. 

Pike waves a hand with false levity. “I’m fine, it’s passed now. Let’s get on with things, shall we?”

Hancock nods. “Of course! We were just about to retire to the company offices, if you would follow me…”

Pike stumbles just a bit, his legs like lead as they leave. He resolutely refuses to look at the Garlean Consulate again. Still, for the rest of the day, he can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

* * *

Many things remind Pike of himself and his younger days now. Impossible not to, of course, being in the Empire’s territory and especially this close to his old hunting grounds. Othard was still barely newly conquered when he joined the military, and a rash of rebellions had broken out around the same time.

Doma hadn’t rebelled yet, by the time he left, but it’s easy to see how he would have taken this rebellion. The trick with the underwater passage was clever, but not foolproof. They were desperate for manpower, so he could have infiltrated, even if undercover work wasn’t his forte. Maybe play a conscript who wanted to defect, feed them some low level information to ingratiate himself to them.

He tries to shake the thoughts off by distracting himself with talking to the locals. Their defeated looks and dour outlooks hardly make for good conversation, however, and it’s with heavy shoulders that he returns to Valliant, Lyse, and Yugiri.

The last thing he wants to do at that point is talk to even _more_ people, the guilt and sympathy for them compounding with each conversation. Instead, Pike wanders off to the north, hoping that nobody is actually over there.

Naturally, someone is.

There’s a little girl, cowering as several large, bug-like creatures close in on her. Pike rushes, drawing the sword from his belt. With two quick slices, their heads are severed neatly from their bodies. He kneels before the young girl. “Are you alright?”

She nods shakily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

There’s a brief, sharp pain in Pike’s heart, but he simply smiles. “Good. My name’s Pike. What’s yours?”

“My name’s Azami!” Her grin is bright, just as bright as Elphina’s used to shine. 

“Well met, Azami,” Pike says, bowing his head. She giggles lightly. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“Oh,” she looks to the ground bashfully. “Looking for flowers. I need some for my parents’ graves.”

The matter of fact way she says that is heartbreaking. She can’t be much older than he was when he lost his own parents, and it speaks to how long they’ve been gone at this point that it’s just a part of her young life. “I see.”

“The ones my brother and I usually collect are yellow, because it was my mother’s favorite color,” Azami continues, beginning to scan the ground for flowers. “You haven’t seen any, have you?”

“I haven’t, I’m afraid.” Pike scans the horizon. Several more large, nasty looking bugs mill the landscape, and he doubts she’ll go home without her flowers. “Would you like me to help you look?”

“Oh really?” Azami brightens considerably. “I would love that!”

Pike smiles as she takes his hand and pulls him off towards a patch she says she’d seen flowers in before. They search for a few minutes, Azami chattering away rapid fire. It’s...actually soothing. It’s nice to be reminded of the parts of Elphina that were so beautiful. The good memories with her are often so buried under the grief and guilt.

Pike spots his quarry, and with a careful slice of his knife, he produces several yellow carnations. “Is the right kind, Azami?”

Azami brushes dirt from her tunic as she stands, and considers the flowers Pike hands her. “Hm...yes! These are perfect.” She looks up at him with a bright smile. “Um...if you have some time to spare, maybe you could come with me? I’m sure Mother and Father would love to meet the man who showed me such kindness.”

“I’d be honored,” Pike says, and Azami gives him another stunning smile. They walk back to the village, Azami leading the way and keeping up a running commentary about the various sights they pass. It’s encouraging that she’s still so sunny, even if the rest of her village is so beaten down.

Azami guides him up through the terraces, to a cliff that watches over the village. It’s a beautiful spot, but neither of them exactly appreciate the view, too focused on the graves before them. Azami lays the flowers on the graves, bowing her head in a quiet prayer.

“They loved to meet travelers and hear tales of far away places,” Azami says after a moment. “Maybe you could tell them one about your homeland?”

Pike opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by a vaguely familiar voice ringing up the hill. “Azami? Azami! Are you there? Azami!”

The figure that crests the hill is the boy from when they first arrived, Isse. His eyes widen on seeing Pike there. “What the—you should not be here! Get away from my sister!”

Pike takes a step away, holding his hands up in surrender. Azami pouts up at her brother. “Don’t be rude! He saved me from monsters, brother—he even helped me pick flowers for Mother and Father.”

Isse turns to her, his glare evident. “Go back to the village. Now.” 

Azami takes a step back. “Y-you’re scaring me-”

“I said go!’ Isse cuts her off, and she startles heavily. “Stay inside, and lock the door until I return!”

Azami nods shakily, and runs off.

“I apologize,” Pike says, lowering his hands. “I just didn’t want her to run into any more trouble on her way back.”

Isse sighs. “Don’t think me ungrateful. My sister is the only family I have left. If you saved her, then...thank you. But it changes nothing. I asked you to leave, and now I’m asking you again. I won’t report you to Imperials or anything stupid like that. But it’s too dangerous for you to stay here. So please, I’m begging you—please just leave us alone!”

“Is that what you truly want?” Pike asks. 

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Isse’s voice cracks as it raises in volume. “If they find you here, we’re the ones they’ll punish! And it’ll be a thousand times worse than before!”

As Isse recounts the story of his parents and what happened to them after the failed rebellion, Pike’s horror mounts. He doesn’t have to extrapolate far to realize that this is likely what happened in the countries after he’d dismantled their rebellions. How many children, tortured because of him? It made him ill to even think about.

“Whatever you came here to do, leave us out of it,” Isse finishes, his voice quiet. Broken. “If you want to fight the Imperials, go and fight them on your own. You can’t help us, No one can. And this is all we’ve got. So please—don’t take it from us.”

He turns and leaves Pike standing alone on the clifftop. Later, when Pike can do nothing but watch as Isse is taken away, he thinks on those words.

Who will take more from Doma, in the end. Her oppressors? Or her liberators?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original version of this chapter happened to be 14 pages long in my Google Doc, which is roughly twice the length of the first chapter. I've split it into two, with the next part coming in the next two to three days. I don't want people to have wildly different expectations of the general chapter length.
> 
> General disclaimer that all viewpoints expressed in this fic are not necessarily my own. Especially as I deal with Pike's past and his general view of the world, I want that to be clear. I am going to have him and other characters say things I don't agree with. Nothing that applies to this chapter I think but it will be coming up next chapter if I'm right.
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and come shout at me on [Tumblr](https://www.lemoncakedesign.tumblr.com) or Twitter! Ask me lore questions about Pike, I have so much stuff written that will never make it into any fics OTL


	3. Do You Walk in the Meadow of Spring?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Do you walk in the meadow of spring?_  
>  _Do you talk to the animals?_  
>  _Do you hold their lives from a string?_  
>  Zenos yae Galvus comes to Doma.

Pike takes as easily to the shadows as Yugiri herself, and isn’t that a feat.

He’s not quite as hidden as her, but few are: she’d been given the name Mistwalker for a reason. Still, she doesn’t have to cover for clumsy steps and accidental noises, and that makes their task all the easier. 

She files this information away in the part of her mind she’s half reserved for puzzling out this Warrior of Light. It’s less than she’d like, for certain. Almost nothing concrete and much of it begetting just more questions.

For example, earlier. She had expected Pike’s silence in the argument over her planned assassination of Zenos. He was a smart man, after all, and to rush into a battle he had already lost once before was foolish beyond measure.

And yet.

And yet he had come, when she had resolved to go alone. And he had looked her in the eye as she laid out her plan, her intention to kill Zenos, and said:

“You mean  _ we  _ will kill him.”

“Or die trying,” she had replied, and he had responded with only a grim nod and a look of determination.

Yugiri looks over, confirming Pike’s presence behind her. They have but a few minutes until the Prince and his retinue arrive, and despite his resolve earlier, Yugiri can’t help but wonder if he’ll freeze.

Pike meets her eyes with a cold look, steely and murderous. It’s chilling. He gives her a nod, dropping into a crouch and dropping his goggles down over his eyes. There’s a faint whirr, then he pulls his bow out and aims it down the main path through the manor.

Yugiri looks back. She can hear the clunking of armor-clad footsteps, and the faint voice of Yotsuyu. She steels her resolve, and fades into the shadows. Two of the guards go down easily, her blades cutting through them without notice. Zenos doesn’t turn, just keeps moving forward.

She spots the opportunity and takes it, leaping towards the prince with impressive speed, her blades coming down in a cross towards his neck. For a brief, wonderful moment, she thinks she has him. 

And then he turns, drawing one of his katanas to parry her, sending her flying back with a shower of sparks. She twists in the air, getting her feet under her to land. The impact jarrs her, but not overly and she raises her blades once more.

One of the soldiers begins to scream about an ambush, but his words are cut off in a gurgle as an arrow pierces his throat. Two more arrows land in the men Yugiri has already dropped, making sure she won’t have any unwelcome surprises.

“How weak you are,” Zenos drawls, sounding bored. “Is this the sum of your hate?”

The tenuous control Yugiri had been keeping on her rage slips, and she clenches her hands around the hilt of her knives. “This is only the beginning! For Lord Kaien! For Doma!”

There’s a low whistle as an arrow passes right by Yugiri’s face, missing her by ilms, as it strikes into the shoulder of one of the soldiers, who had been creeping up on her in her distraction. It recenters her, and she turns and plunges her knife into the incapacitated soldier.

Zenos’ attention has turned to the roof, looking almost directly at where Pike is hidden. For a brief moment, time stops. Then an arrow flies from a different spot, much closer, aimed directly at Zenos’ helmet. He simply leans out of the way of it.

Pike drops from the roof, landing next to Yugiri. He pulls the sword from his belt, and rips a shield off one of the dead soldiers. 

Zenos gives them a considering look, before turning to Yotsuyu. “Mayhap I shall test this new blade of yours. Let us hope it is to my liking, lest your misfortunes compound.” 

He turns back to Pike and Yugiri, and if she could see his eyes, she would swear they would be just as chilling as the horrible mask he wears. “Then again, I am loath to expend such effort on the unworthy. Come—earn the honor.”

“I’ll draw his attention, make an opening for you,” Pike says to her in a low voice. “Deal with the rest of the soldiers.” Then he’s off, charging into battle with Zenos.

* * *

Pike is well aware what he’s doing is borderline suicidal. 

To be fair, he’s gotten out of too many bad situations to count by now, by luck or divine providence or some other force, but that’s not something you can  _ count _ on, and the plethora of bad things that  _ have _ happened are just as numerous. So it’s, arguably, a terrible idea to face down Zenos yae Galvus,  _ especially _ when he’s already lost. 

So naturally he's charging off into battle anyway.

Yugiri is behind him, at the moment, pressed on all sides by the contingent of mages that had been travelling with the group. There’s a cry as she takes a blow, though whether by magic or staff Pike can’t tell. He almost turns to check on her, but then Zenos is launching himself across the field at him, pressing in with his katana.

Pike barely has time to swing his shield around to block the blow, sending a shock up his arm. He shakes it off quickly, though, and dances around Zenos, swiping with his blade to make the prince back off a bit. The lighter armor Pike had chosen today—not wanting to restrict his bow work—works with his agility, but his sword technique is used to being able to take blows on his plate armor. It takes an non-insignificant portion of his brain to remember to dodge and not just absorb the blow that Zenos aims to his side.

Pike takes a chance, darting in for a glancing blow against Zenos’ helmet, and judging by the staggered step he takes back, his plan works. He’d taken too many heavy blows from Valliant right to the helm to know that it rang like a bell tower in there after. He takes the opportunity to slash at the leather joints of the prince’s armor, slicing in deep. The blade catches a bit, as he yanks it out, and in that precious second lost Pike is sent flying, landing a yalm away from Yugiri.

He hits the ground hard, the air knocked out of him. He can hear, fuzzily, Yugiri shouting to him, but through the ringing in his ears, he can’t make out the words. 

The grass beneath shakes gently with the thundering of heavy footsteps, and with every onze of strength he can muster, Pike pulls up his borrowed shield. The katana skids off the curved metal, but it catches his raised knee in a flash of blinding pain. It’s enough to shock Pike back to his body, though, so as soon as the katana is out of his way he rolls, picking up his blade in the motion.

Zenos doesn’t attack, instead sheathing his katana in the massive, cannon-like sheath on his side. There’s a smile in Zenos’ voice as he speaks, appraising Pike. “Well done, beast. You have earned the right to look upon the Ame no Habakiri.”

Pike can practically taste the aether in the air as Zenos draws the katana. The Echo sounds in his mind with a warning, and he shouts to Yugiri. “Get down!”

He drops just as the rush of air flies over him, crackling with dark energy. There’s a sickening crack as one of the mages is sent flying into the nearby stone wall. Pike looks over at Yugiri, who’s dropped to a knee, blades dug into the earth. She looks dazed, but otherwise alright.

Pike pulls himself heavily to his feet, using his sword for balance. He wobbles for a horrible, terrifying moment, but manages to stand strong. “Yugiri! Run! I’ll hold him off!”

She’s still dazed, her words slurring faintly as she speaks. “No! I can still fight, I can still...still…”

Pike curses to himself, but that’s the last of the attention he can spare on her, because Zenos is bearing down on him again, blade surging with dark energy. Pike dodges to the right, the searing heat of the aether burning the ends of his hair but otherwise leaving him unharmed. 

He turns the movement into an attack, swinging his shield around to slam into Zenos’ side. It has little effect except to distract from his sword coming down, aiming for the cut he’d made earlier, but Zenos shifts at the last moment, and Pike’s sword bounces off his armor. 

Pike steps back, and the pain in his knee surges, nearly sending him over. He plants his other foot into the dirt, gritting his teeth to keep himself standing.

“You’re better than most, I’ll grant you that,” Zenos says, mild amusement coloring his voice. “But not good enough. This ends now.”

There’s a surge of aether in the air, and Pike has no time to think before he’s bowled over by the force of Zenos’ attack. He rolls several yalms, coming to a stop beside Yugiri. A thin trickle of blood falls from her forehead, but she’s still breathing, if shallowly. Pike just hopes that Zenos believes her dead and doesn’t bother confirming it.

There’s no hope for his own life, unfortunately. Still, he finds himself needing some form of dignity at the end, and he pulls on the last of his strength to bring himself up into a kneeling position. 

“Ahhh...I remember you. Ala Mhigo. The champion of the savages,” Zenos drawls lazily. 

Pike tries for a witty quip, a sarcastic cut, anything, but he can barely process the words that are being said to him. He settles for a glare.

There’s a strange peace that settles over Pike as Zenos raises his blade. His life doesn’t flash before his eyes, like some have said it would, but all the fear and adrenaline and pain of the fight have drained away. The only feeling he can really distinguish is a vague regret that he’s leaving Valliant alone to bear the burden of being the Warrior of Light alone.

Pike closes his eyes, letting out one final, easy breath. 

There’s a faint, metallic ting, and the sound of something hitting the ground in front of him. Pike opens his eyes in confusion, looking down at the broken piece of metal on the ground. It takes looking up for it to click, that one of the horns of Zenos’ helmet has broken off.

That he’d done that.

Zenos sheathes his katana, and reaches up to take off his helmet. Pike already knows, to a degree, what he looks like underneath, but the wild look in his eyes is new. There’s energy to his movements, now, and to his voice when he speaks. “Oh, how right I was to spare your life.”

A chill, like the feeling of someone walking over his grave, washes over Pike. Zenos walks over to him, kneeling to put himself on the same level as Pike, though he still towers over him. A gauntleted hand tips Pike’s chin up, so he’s forced to look him in the eyes, forced to confront the mania head on.

“Hear me, hero,” Zenos practically croons, his grip on Pike’s chin iron. “Endure. Survive. Live.” Seemingly unbothered by Pike’s struggling against his grip, he continues. “For the rush of blood, for the time between seconds—live. For the sole pleasure left to me in this empty, ephemeral world—live!”

There’s a strangled cry from Pike’s left, as Yugiri flies at Zenos with blades drawn. Pike, distracted by his own exhaustion and fear, hadn’t even heard her get up. The hand holding his chin in place disappears as Zenos stands and draws his katana, blocking her blow with an easy slash that sends her flying. 

Pike snaps to attention, his body moving towards his sword. His injured knee buckles as he twists, and he’s back on the ground, stars blooming before his eyes. All he can do is stare as Zenos stalks towards Yugiri, his sword drawn.

“ _ You  _ are not worthy,” Zenos sneers, and the dark miasma surrounding his blade twists and surges, almost like it moves in time with his emotions.

An arrow flies and embeds itself in the ground just before Zenos, stopping his progression. A familiar voice—Isse, the boy from the village—rings out, his words lost to Pike as his vision swims and twists.

Before the darkness can overtake him, there’s healing aether surging through his veins, and a strong grip on his shoulder. Valliant’s grip. Her fear is clear in the way her fingers clench against his armor and the way her voice shakes. “C’mon, kid, I need you up and at ‘em.”

She pulls him to his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulder, as smoke fills the air around them. With her bracing him and the healing, Pike has the energy to watch as the large form of the Prince disappears.

As Valliant half-drags him away, he feels dread pool in the pit of his stomach. Because there can be no doubt in his mind: Pike will face Zenos yae Galvus one more time.

And one of them will not walk away from that battle.

* * *

Valliant is thankful that Pike doesn’t need extensive healing, just rest for his exhaustion, but it does mean that she doesn’t get to put off a hard conversation.

She’s never shied away from saying the hard thing if she has to. She learned long ago that it only ever hurts more in the long run, only ever leads to old wounds that never quite scar over right. It doesn’t mean she  _ likes  _ having those conversations, though, and she still hesitates before going into the barbers.

Pike is the only one in there, thankfully, and he gives her a guilty look from his bed that tells her he’d been up and walking before she’d entered the room. She gives him her neutral face of disappointment, and he reddens, ears drooping.

Valliant snags a chair for herself and settles next to his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Bored,” Pike admits, flopping back onto the pillow behind him with a dramatic huff. “The chirurgeon keeps telling me I’ve exhausted myself, but I feel fine.”   


“You should listen to them,” Valliant says, furrowing her brow. “You almost died, Pike.”

“And I’m fine now. Any chance you could spring me?” Pike gives her a winning grin, but she feels less than charmed.

“No.” She laughs a little at the pout he gives her, but the mirth fades as she remembers what she needs to tell him. “Look...Pike, I didn’t just come to check on you. I’ve got...a dilemma.”

Pike cocks his head to the side. “A dilemma?”   


She nods. “Raubahn’s been...he’s been asking me to come back. For morale. And I’ll bet he wants me to drive up recruitment numbers. They’re stretched pretty thin between the forces they need in country and what they need to hold the Castrum.”

Pike frowns, but he doesn’t look too put out. “Alright. That seems reasonable. What’s the problem?” She gives him a look, and his brow furrows. “Me? What, are you worried I’m going to keel over the second you look away from me?”

“Yes, actually,” Valliant says, her tone a bit irritated. “Forgive me for thinking so, but you did run off to fight Zenos without even so much as a by-your-leave.”

Pike’s eyes look off to the side, his ears flicking with displeasure. “Zenos is dangerous. Yugiri was right, if we could have killed him there-”

“If he had killed  _ you _ there, what then?” Valliant snaps back, cutting him off. “Am I just supposed to accept that? That’s not heroism, Pike, that’s suicide.”

She watches as his jaw clenches, and he doesn’t respond. There’s a few tense moments, until Valliant sighs, her anger fading. “I need to know that if I leave you here, alone, that it’ll mean you come back. I know what we do is dangerous, Pike, but you’re the closest thing to a kid that I’m ever going to get and I don’t know if I could forgive myself if I left and you died over here.”

Pike’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “I can’t promise that. If the choice is me or someone else, you know what I’ll choose every time.”

“Then find the third choice.” She takes his hand, and Pike looks her in the eyes. There’s a haunted quality to them, one that she can’t quite place. It could be his past, or Haurchefant, or both, or even neither. “You’re smart enough, don’t corner yourself before you have to, okay? And rely on others. You’ve got people here who will help you. No more one on one battles with demon princes.”

Pike sighs heavily, and he squeezes her hand. “Third choice. I’ll...try.”

With her free hand, Valliant ruffles his hair, eliciting a scandalized squawk. “I suppose that’s all I can ask of you. Listen to your healers, kid. If you die because you got impatient, I’ll figure out a way to make Hydaelyn bring you back so I can yell at you, got it?”

Pike pouts. “Fine, fine! I’ll try and make my inevitable death very cool and also literally my only option.”

Valliant shrugs. “Good enough.”

There’s a part of her that still worries. There’s a part of her that’ll always worry, she thinks. For better, or for worse, Pike is her family now, and that comes with worrying about him. But, as she says goodbye to him in Isari, just before he leaves for the Azim Steppe and she boards the boat bound back to Kugane, and she sees the shining determination in his eyes, she knows she wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

_ Frumentarius Accius, _

_ Your most recent report concerning Asset 228 intrigues me. I had not thought you prone to such flights of fancy. _

_ However, it holds promise on some aspects. You have my permission to attempt it. The potential gains outweigh the risks.  _ _ Do not waste our better assets on this, however. Assets 234 and 253 are at your disposal, as usual, but no more than that. The Empire will prevail with or without your little pet, as she always has. _

_ This is your last chance to impress me, Accius. Make the best of it. _

_ Glory to the Empire _

_ Primus Frumentarius _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda gave up on this chapter, not sure if it comes through. I've just been staring at it for too long and not doing anything with it because I didn't exactly like how it flowed, and I'm just done. I might come back and edit this later to flow better and feel more...interesting? I guess? Won't change anything plot wise, just to make it feel nicer.
> 
> Anyway, I'm on to the next chapter, one I'm way more interested in writing. I've got all my dominoes placed and it is time to knock them over :)


	4. Spinning Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'Cause everybody in the backroom's spinning out_   
>  _Don't remember what you're asking for_
> 
> Pike heads to the Azim Steppe.

Pike struggles against the ropes binding his wrists, feeling them bite into his skin. His mind swims with fog, and he can’t quite reconcile how long he’s been there. Minutes stretch into infinity and snap past in the blink of an eye. 

The room around him is dark, he thinks, but he can’t tell if there’s no light or if he just can’t _see_. There’s no sound, no smells, not even the taste of stale air on his tongue. All there is the feeling of the ropes on his wrists.

And then, eons or seconds later, a familiar chuckle in his ear. In both his ears, in his mind. Pike feels his body tense with fear, with the need to run, but he can’t move, bound by the ropes as he is.

“I’ve missed you, Cat’s Eye,” Kaseo goe Aper whispers. “Welcome back. We have much work to do, don’t we?”

There’s a heavy weight in his hands, and Pike can move. He stands, fluidly, hand clenching around the object.

There’s a person in front of him, and he strikes quickly, knife slipping between steel armor to bury into their ribs. They fall. 

Valliant stares up at him with betrayal in her eyes, and Pike suddenly feels sick to his stomach. He falls to his knees beside her. 

“Good work, Pike,” Kaseo says, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I always knew you would return to us.”

Pike jerks awake, breathing heavily. He scrubs a hand over his face, smearing the sweat on his brow into his eyes. The stinging centers him, allowing him to register the yurt around him, the soft pile of bedding below, and the gentle breathing of his companions. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to have woken anyone with his nightmare.

 _He’s dead,_ Pike thinks to himself. _You_ know _he’s dead. Why does he still scare you?_

There’s no chance of getting back to sleep for him, so Pike quietly gathers up his armor and weapons before stealing out into the dawning morning light. A few of the Mol wander about, mostly those responsible for the sheep and horses of the Mol.

Pike finds himself a quiet spot and begins to strap on his armor, taking care with each piece. He checks each strap, mentally noting which of those will require repair soon, and runs his hands over the metal, looking for dents and divots that’ll need to be hammered out.

Strapped in, he pulls a nearby stool over and begins to check over his sword. The leather gloves of his gauntlets catch briefly on a few blemishes, and Pike sighs. He reaches into his bag, pulling out a small wooden box.

He hears footsteps as he’s running the first stone along the edge of the blade, and out of the corner of his eye he sees a small figure; a young Mol boy, watching from behind the corner of the yurt. Pike smiles to himself and shifts himself more in view of the child.

Eventually, the boy’s curiosity wins out and he edges out from behind the yurt to stand in front of Pike. In full view, Pike realizes he’s one of the boys from the day before, Yurentai. “What are you doing?” he asks quietly.

“Weapon care,” Pike replies. “When you use a sword over and over, it can get scratched and damaged.” He motions the boy forward with one hand. When Yurentai steps closer, Pike circles one of the remaining divots with one finger. “See, here? So I use these stones to wear down the metal and make it smooth again. It keeps the edge sharp.”

Yurentai looks curiously at the blade. “You use your sword a lot? My mom doesn’t use hers very often. She says it’s bad for hunting.”

“Mm.” Pike switches the stone in his hand for one with a finer grit. “She’s correct. You mostly use a sword for battle. And, unfortunately, I tend to find myself in a few of those.”

Yurentai’s eyes light up, and he sits, staring up at Pike. “What kind of battles?”

Pike thinks for a moment, paring down a few stories to be more appropriate for Yurentai’s age. “Well…”

The whetstones get finer and finer as Pike spins his tales, occasionally pausing to set the scene more effectively with his hands. Yurentai devours each one with amazement, and soon into the first story, other children begin to find them and settle in to listen to his adventures. Eventually, Pike finds the raw edges of his nightmare soothed by his little adoring (and adorable) audience, at the wonder in their innocent eyes.

It reminds him, unpainfully, of his sister. Of the stories he would weave for her, based on the myths and tales of the far flung places he’d been sent. How she would look as he told them, her eyes distant with imagination. 

As he finishes his last tale up, he hears clapping from behind him. Hien stands there, a slight smirk on his face, having clearly heard most or all of his tale. Pike feels himself warm at the fact, because he’d _definitely_ embellished this one, more than a little. 

“I am sorry to take your story-teller, young ones,” Hien says, dropping into a formal bow, “But I have need of his many skills.”

Pike rises, and he bows in the formal bard fashion, hand over his heart. “Fare thee well, children of the Mol! May your own adventures be as fun as my ever have been!”

The children laugh at his theatrics and begin to disperse, chattering to each other. Pike scoops up his sword from where he’d abandoned it, long finished sharpening it. He turns to Hien, who’s still giving him a bit of a smirk. “What?”

“I had not realized your battle against the Sahagin leader so harrowing,” Hien says, beginning to lead him away. “To hear Yugiri tell it, it was fairly uneventful.”

Pike warms further, and he’s sure his face is practically _glowing_ with embarrassment. “I-ah, well, it hardly makes for a good story if you don’t polish _some_ of the details, yes?”

Hien laughs heartily, and he bumps Pike gently with his shoulder. “Too true, my friend.” His laughter fades as they walk, but silence only holds them for a few moments before Hien breaks it once more. “You are quite good with children, you realize? They seem quite enamored with you even after only a few stories.”

“Children are easy,” Pike shrugs. “Talk to them like adults with a slightly more limited vocabulary, give them something for their imagination to feed on for a bit, and they’ll adore you forever. At least, that’s how my sister was.”

“Your sister?” Hien turns his head to look at Pike briefly, and he catches the confused look. “I was not aware you had one. At least, Yugiri never mentioned her.”

“Ah,” Pike says, and he looks off to the side. “She died, nearly six years ago. I don’t speak of her very often, and probably never said anything to Yugiri. I didn’t even tell my husband about her until we had been together a few months.”

“I see,” Hien says. “My condolences. I understand how hard it can be to lose family.”

Pike smiles, attempting to cut through the sudden dour mood. “Thank you, that means a lot. Now, what did you need from me?”

“Ah, yes, it’s about Bardam’s Mettle…”

* * *

“So it would be a bad idea if I tried bed Hien, right?”

Lyse chokes on the water she’s drinking, and has to cough a few times before she’s ready to respond to Pike. Pike’s sporting an amused, which tells her he asked that exactly as she was drinking just to mess with her, and she levels an epic glare at him. “Twelve, Pike.”

“Is that a yes? Because I’m leaning towards yes, but he’s just so damn _pretty_.”

Lyse rolls her eyes. “Of course it’s yes. You’re starting to remind me of Thancred—speaking of him, don’t you two have a _thing_ going on?”

Pike waves a hand lazily, leaning against the nearby yurt. “It’s a casual thing. We’re not in a relationship, it’s more like...mutually beneficial stress relief.”

“Sure.” Lyse doesn’t push the point, even if the way Pike’s eyes dart away from her as he speaks contradict his words. “Either way, pick someone else. That’s a political mess if ever there was one.”

“You’re right, as ever.” Pike inclines his head to her. “You’re also making me miss Valliant even more, right now.”

Lyse bumps him with her shoulder. “Aw, does the wittle kitty miss his mommy?”

Pike bumps her right back, and it’s only the way she’s learned to brace from her monk teachers that keeps her from bowling right over. “Mouth closed, Lyse. She’s my best friend, of course I miss her.” He sighs, world weary. “There’s something about having someone always at your back that you don’t know how to miss until they’re gone.”

Lyse goes quiet, and she has to blink back tears. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”

“Twelve, Lyse, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” she says. “You know better than anyone else what it’s like to lose someone close to you, you wouldn’t mean to hurt.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t,” Pike says, and he pulls her into a warm side hug. “It’s okay, you can call me an idiot.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says with a wet laugh. “I mean, really. Hien?”

He laughs and accepts the subject change. “He’s pretty, Lyse. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed either.”

“Not exactly my type, Pike.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re more the Cirina kind, I get it. But objectively, he’s pretty, right?” Pike lets go of the hug. “I think it’s the hair. And the nobility. I think I have a thing for men in high places.”

Lyse hums. “I’m surprised nothing ever happened with Aymeric, then.” A long pause stretches between them, and then it clicks. “ _No_ . By Rhalgr, Pike, have you _no_ shame?”

“No,” Pike answers. “But in my defense, we were both quite drunk.”

“Next you’re going to tell me you’ve bed Raubahn, I swear.”

Pike pauses for a moment, and at the looks she gives him, bursts out laughing. “Your _face_ , Lyse! No, not Raubahn. He’s not really my type, as much as I have one.”

“Oh, thank the Destroyer,” Lyse says. “I don’t think I could have faced him again if you had.”

Pike’s still choking back giggles, and she eventually joins him. Pike has one of those really good laughs, she thinks, the kind that’s just so happy to express itself. It’s infectious.

Eventually, laughed to exhaustion, they sink to the ground, staring up at the beautiful blue sky of the Steppe. “I’m going to miss this, I think,” Pike says. “The ease of it all. Hard to remember we’re recruiting for a war, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Lyse says. “Even the Nadaam sort of feels like a game, right? Even with the stakes, everyone seems so excited for it here.”

“Cirina told me it means ‘games’, in their language,” Pike says. “So you’re not that far off. It’s just a rather bloody one, I suppose.”

“Like the Wolves’ Den battles, kind of.”

“Mm. You ever done one of those?”

“Papalymo wouldn’t let me,” Lyse says. She affects a higher voice, trying to imitate him. “‘The Scions are to be _impartial_ , Lyse. We can’t fight for any of the Grand Companies, that would imply favoritism.’”

“Could’ve fought with the Addies, though. Balance it out between me and Valliant.” Pike shrugs. “To tell the truth, they’re a little boring for me. I’m not good in a team, at least one that’s not people I fight with all the time. I don’t know how to play well with others. It took me _weeks_ to get used to Valliant, let alone the rest of you.”

“I kind of assumed you’d been a soldier before, though,” Lyse says. “You fight like it. What did you do before Eorzea?” Pike is quiet for a moment, a bit longer than is strictly normal, and Lyse realizes she’s touched on a nerve. “Oh, sorry, Pike. I know you don’t like to talk about your past.”

Pike shrugs again, though it’s a little more tense this time. “Honest question, I don’t mind. I was a bodyguard in Thavnair for a few years before I came to Eorzea. Before that was Ilsabard and that’s...harder to talk about, sorry. I did fight there, though. So, yeah, I have a bit of practice. Nothing like I’ve learned since coming to Eorzea, though.”

Lyse laughs, trying to break the tension. “I bet. Nothing like primals and ancient war machina to cut your teeth as a warrior.”

“Mmhmm.”

They sit in silence for a few more moments, soaking in the sun, and enjoying having the weight of the world off their shoulders for a few moments.

* * *

They win the Nadaam. Pike is khagan of the Steppe, and it feels...bittersweet.

Because by winning, it’s back to Doma, back to the reality of war and the trials they will face. But they have the power to take back Doma, and that to take Ala Mhigo and that’s what they’re here for, right? Why they did any of this in the first place.

The celebration the Mol throw is just...too much. Too lonely, without Valliant. He’d made his excuses, begging for some fresh air, and escaped into the night. Hopefully no one would notice his missing presence for some time.

He walks, mindlessly, hand half on the hilt of his sword just in case. Even here, where Garlemald had touched only to be instantly driven out, he can’t shake the paranoia. 

Pike wonders when the last time he’d felt relaxed was. With Haurchefant? In Garlemald?

When his parents were still alive?

He shakes off the maudlin thoughts. Tonight is a celebration, even if he isn’t participating. And to think too much on them only left him feeling lost and lonely. He’s already enough of the both for the night.

Pike wanders, meditating in the quiet of the night. The Steppe isn’t silent, far from it, but it’s peaceful. Just the sounds of animals foraging in the grass, predators hunting sleeping creatures, and the quiet hum of insects. He veers far away from any of the encampments, not eager to deal with people right now, and instead walks towards one of the large stone fingers extending out of the ground.

It takes just a moment to scale it, and he sits at the top, looking out across the Steppe. The cool wind ruffles his hair and the fur of his ears. He breathes in, and out, memorizing the smell of the Steppe to take with him.

He thinks of how he’d tell this story to Elphie. The outsider, the foreigner, who came and conquered the great warriors of Azim, just for the chance to ask them to join him in his fight against a great and powerful evil. How would the story end, however? The foreigner vanquished in combat with the prince of evil? Or triumphing in the end, leading those who followed him into a brighter future?

Elphina would like the second ending best. The tragedies were interesting, sure, but she loved a happy ending. Maybe because of her age, but Pike didn’t think so. She just liked everyone around her to be as happy as they could. 

There’s a whistling in the air, and Pike’s eyes widen. He shifts to the left, and the knife that’d been thrown at him bounces off the rock behind him. He catches it on the second bounce, just before it falls off the stone finger, as he stands and scans the nearest pillar. No one stands atop it, but...there, a figure sliding down the pillar, heading to the ground. He reaches for his bow, then curses to himself. Pike hadn’t thought to arm himself with it, not expecting to have the distance to effectively shoot during the Nadaam. 

Without a second to waste, he whistles for his Yol, jumping off the Pillar just as it swoops in from the sky. Pike directs it towards the ground, racing to where he saw the person. The wind streaking by him blinds him, and he can’t quite tell if they’re still there.

They aren’t. The Yol glides just passed the spot, and slows enough for him to tell. He whistles, and the Yol stops, allowing Pike to disembark.

All that’s there is a single boot print in the still muddy earth. Pike’s breath catches as he recognizes, and he looks at the knife, still in his hand. Sitting comfortably, familiarly.

A frumentarius’ blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Lyse. I know that's sort of a controversial opinion, but I just think she's fun. I have problems with her characterization sometimes, but I have problems with a lot of Stormblood and still enjoy it so that tracks, I think. 
> 
> I'm starting (...halfway through the story) to figure out what the fuck I'm actually doing here, lol. I might go back and edit earlier chapters to fit with my new direction, we'll see. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! I enjoyed writing it.


	5. Don't Remember What You're Asking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'Cause everybody in the backroom's spinning out_  
>  _Don't remember what you're asking for_  
>  A talk, a search, a problem.

Pike goes through the next few days in an unshakeable fog.

They prepare for the infiltration of Doma Castle, and Pike follows orders, easily, but his mind is elsewhere. Focused on a knife that he’s hidden at the bottom of his bag, though he knows that few others would recognize it on sight.

He knows Alphinaud and Alisiae have realized he’s off, because they’re _much_ less subtle than they think they are, but he mentions something about missing Valliant to them and they nod knowingly to each other. It means he has to deal with them hanging around, trying to cheer him up, but Pike finds that they manage to lighten the fog somewhat.

He should tell them, Pike thinks, because a spy following him is a danger to them all, but he can’t bring himself to. He doesn’t want the questions that he’ll struggle to answer, ones like “How did you know this was a Frumentarius blade?” and “Why did they throw a knife at you?” and “Pike, what actually happened in your past?”

By the time the fog recedes, it’s the night before they’re set to storm Doma Castle. The pit of anxiety that’s settled into Pike’s stomach is probably the only reason the fog has cleared, he realizes; he’s traded one worry for another.

He sits at the table with Gosetsu and Hien, keeping half an eye on the twins nearby. They look so much younger when they sleep, he thinks.

“Are you not drinking, my friend?” Gosetsu asks him. “You are welcome to our sake, of course.”

Pike shrugs. “Bit of a waste on me,” he says. “I don’t get drunk easily.”

“Truly?” Hien asks. “Is that due to your Miqo’te heritage?”

“Nah, we’re actually usually lightweights.” Pike smiles softly to himself. “When I was younger, you could barely get two drinks into me before I fell down. No, it’s the Echo. My metabolism works faster than most. It’s necessary, when you come up against enemies that explode into poison gas. Used to drive Thancred _crazy,_ because he kept losing drinking contests to me, and I refused to tell him why it happened. And then Arenvald came along and ruined my fun.”

“Seems a useful skill,” Gosetsu says. “Why, the amount of times in my youth that I feel too deep into my cups, and had to fight a battle whilst nursing the worst hangovers!”

“Still have those.” Pike stretches, checking on the twins again. Alisiae is drooling on Alphinaud’s shoulder. He’ll wake them soon, he thinks, let them get a decent rest in a decent bed before tomorrow, but they’re simply too adorable for him to want to disturb them. “They’re just much faster. Usually with a lot of vomiting.”

Hien wrinkles his nose as he takes another sip of his sake. “Thank you for the mental image.”

“I can give you better ones, if you like,” Pike answers with a cheeky grin. He leans towards the tipsy prince. “When you’re sober enough to enjoy them.”

There’s a noticeably deeper reddening to Hien’s face as Pike leans away, and Pike feels a rush of pride. Part of him hopes that Hien doesn’t actually take him up on the offer, the rational part, but the rest of him is too busy appreciating the fact that Hien’s blush apparently extends down his shoulder.

A few hours pass. Hien eventually retires, waking the twins and leading them to some beds, but Pike and Gosetsu keep talking. The sake is long finished at this point, Pike eventually cajoled to participate in its consumption. 

“There has been something I have been meaning to ask you, my friend,” Gosetsu says. He’s sobered considerably by this point, though a faint slur still lingers in his words. “The way you fight, it reminded me of my time in the-the Garlean military. Were you...”

Pike stills. He looks away from Gosetsu. “I was a part of the military, yes,” he answers quietly. “For a little over four years.”

“Conscripted?” Gosetsu asks.

“...No,” Pike answers. “I was fifteen, and my sister was sick, and I had no money.”

“Conscripted by any measure, then,” Gosetsu says with a nod. “Not by law, but by circumstance.”

Pike starts. “I’ve...never thought about it like that. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I did things, things I’m not proud of.”

“As did I, my young friend.” Gosetsu claps a heavy hand on Pike’s shoulder. “Those Garlean dogs, they asked much of us, did they not? Made us scrape to survive and thank them for the chance to do so. But we get our pound of flesh in the end, yes? And we take that, and we use it to build ourselves a new world.”

“Well said,” Pike says. “If I had any sake left, I would toast it to you.”

There’s a lightness in his heart, for the first time since Haurchefant died. Sometimes, he forgets how heavy his secrets feel, but to have them understood shares the burden. He gives Gosetsu a bright smile.

* * *

They take Doma Castle.

Gosetsu dies.

* * *

It’s been nearly a day since Pike has returned to Eorzea, and Valliant still hasn’t seen him.

It irks her, because she misses the kid fiercely, and he hasn’t even bothered to track her down. It ends up being enough that she tracks down Lyse.

“I thought he went looking for you,” is all Lyse gives him, before she’s drawn back into battle planning with Conrad and Raubahn. Valliant sighs and marches off, looking for Alisiae.

Alisiae shakes her head when Valliant approaches. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to find him,” she says. “Has anyone filled you in on what happened in Doma?”

They haven’t. Alisiae lays out the whole story, and Valliant sighs.

“So he’s brooding,” she says. “How bad was it?”

“Quiet the whole boat ride home, though he didn’t climb any masts this time,” Alisiae tells her. “Should we just leave him to it?”

“I would, but…” Valliant crosses her arms. “With Krile taken, I worry they’ll come for more of us. Pike’s strong, but...I worry.”

“I haven’t seen him, but...ask about any monsters that needed slaying recently?” Alisiae says with a shrug. 

She does. Nobody has any answers for her, and eventually she makes it back to her squadron barracks without any clear answers.

“Lieutenant Skye!” One of her privates says with a salute.

“At ease, Private,” she says. “Whaddya need?”

“There’s someone outside who would like to speak with you,” the private says. 

She doesn’t let him finish, striding out of the barracks to see who it is.

Disappointingly, it’s not Pike; instead, it’s two young men. One holds a harp and strums absentmindedly on it, the other looks like he wishes the other would stop strumming.

“You needed me?” Valliant squints at them. “Are you Captain Sanson?”

Sanson brightens. “I am!” He holds a hand out for her to shake. “I presume Pike’s told you about me?”

She takes the hand. “Yeah. That makes this one Guydelot?”

Guydelot doesn’t stop strumming. Sanson answers for him. “He is, indeed. I apologize for his poor manners.”

“Eh, I’m used to it,” Valliant says. “Pike was right, though. I get the sense that he is, in fact, an ass and a half.” Sanson snorts, and she grins at him. “Anyway, you needed me for something?”

“Oh, I heard you were looking for Pike,” Sanson answers. “He asked me if the Adders had any tasks he could do, and I sent him off to cull a few of the local fauna.”

“Of course he is,” Valliant says with an eye roll. “Whereabouts?”

“Just outside the gates, and then up to the river,” Sanson says, gesturing. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to send him further, as the last thing we want is any more attention from the Castellum.”

“Good plan, kid,” she says. “How long ago?”

“Only an hour. He should still be in the vicinity of the river, if he didn’t stray.”

“Right,” Valliant says. “Thanks for the info.”

Then she takes off, whistling for her chocobo. Larry meets her at the gates, and she’s on his back in a moment. She rides him through the underbrush, reaching the river in a few moments, but finds nothing there save the rushing of the water.

A feeling, something like the Echo but not quite, creeps over her. She can’t shake the feeling that Pike might be in danger. So she directs Larry down the river, searching for signs of Pike nearby.

She finds a bear carcass halfway down the river, near Bittermill, already skinned and butchered. Pike’s nearby, she thinks, and she looks up. He’s perched in one of the trees above her, bow trained on something in the ruined town.

He nearly falls, as a knife flies right by his face and he has to dodge. Valliant’s off her chocobo in a second, drawing her gunblade, and looking towards the houses. She can’t see anything at this distance, though.

Pike’s already running down the branch he’d been sat on, jumping easily from it to the roof of a nearby building. He disappears behind the building, and Valliant runs forward to get him back in her line of sight.

There’s a black clad figure clashing blades with him. They exchange words that she can’t hear quite clearly at the distance, and then the figure jumps back, out of Pike’s range.

It’s the moment Valliant’s been waiting for, and she aims the gunblade at the figure, firing off an arc of lighting towards them. The unexpected blow catches them fully, knocking them off their feet, and Pike takes the hint. He rushes forward and slams his shield into the figure’s face. They go limp.

Valliant leaves her cover, then, and comes to Pike’s side. He’s got a rope out, and is tying up the figure’s hands. Now that she’s close enough, she can tell that it’s a woman, and Pike sweeps back the hair covering her forehead to reveal a third eye.

“Fuck,” Pike mutters.

Valliant hauls the prone woman over her shoulder. “Hey kid. Nice to see you. Did you have to go immediately running off into danger?”

Pike doesn’t answer, just stows his sword and turns. “Did you bring your chocobo?” he asks, in clipped tones.

“Yeah, he’s nearby.” She whistles and Larry comes bursting out of the underbrush, coming to a less than graceful stop right in front of her. She sighs. “Are you alright, kid?”

“Fine,” Pike answers. “Let’s get her back to the Castrum. I have questions for her.”

* * *

If he hadn’t seen his husband die right in front of him, Pike would call this the worst day of his life.

As it stands, it gets really, really close. Of course the moment the spy decides to reveal herself, Valliant would show up. Of course Pike wouldn’t be able to kill her and leave her at the Castellum as a message to his former handlers. Of course he would have to ask these questions in front of an audience.

Valliant’s dumped the spy into a waiting cell, one Pike’s deemed acceptable. He works quickly, divesting the woman of her weapons, even the hidden knife he knows she keeps strapped under her shirt. She’s not dressed in any of their colors, just a plain black outfit suited to the thick undergrowth of the forest.

He doesn’t know this one, which is little comfort. He can't even tell what her specialization is, beyond tailing him for the past few weeks.

Then he waits. The other available Scions trickle in, even Thancred, who was still apparently around. Lyse is still caught up at the planning meeting, but the twins are there, along with Arenvald.

"What's going on?" Alphinaud asks. "Who is that?"

"Garlean," Pike answers, from where he sits against the wall across from the cell. He doesn't take his eyes off her. "Tried to kill me."

Valliant goes into more detail, laying out how she found him. Pike picks up the blade he'd pulled from the thin holster under the Frumentarius' shirt, and tosses it around a few times. 

"I don't know why she targeted Pike, though," Valliant says. "I've been here for _weeks_ , she could have ambushed me at any point during then. Navigator only knows how many times I've been out in the woods by myself."

"Wasn't here until today," Pike says. He drives the blade into the ground by his feet. "She's been following me since we entered Gyr Abania."

"Twelve," Thancred breathes. "When you thought someone had been in your room, that night-"

Pike nods. "I'm guessing that's how they found out about Rhalgr's Reach. She attacked me, on the Steppe, as well."

"You never said anything," Alisiae says. "Why?"

"Because I doubt you all would have been willing to wait for me to bait her out." Pike shrugs. "It's why I went out today. I caught a glimpse of her, right as we got into Limsa. She'd gotten bolder, like she had my number and was just waiting for the moment to strike. I gave it to her."

Something doesn't feel right, though, he thinks. She clearly wasn't aiming to _kill_ him, because she threw that knife where he could see it coming. Unless the Frumentarii have gotten sloppier, less well trained, since Spymaster Aper's death. But Pike remembers Aper's second-in-command, the one most likely to have taken over. He was just as cruel as his superior.

There's a noise from the cell, as the Frumentarius begins to awaken. Pike stands from where he’d been sitting against the wall. He steps forward. “Morning,” he says.

“Hm,” the spy returns. “I doubt it’s morning, yet, but keep trying to confuse me, Warrior of Light. It does make things fun.”

Pike rolls his eyes. “I have questions for you.”

“I’m sure you do,” the spy says, amused. “Are you going to torture them out of me? You know that’s not an easy prospect.”

“No, that’s not how things work around here,” Pike says. “But, see, I’ve got two Echo users here, besides myself, so I figure if I ask enough leading questions, eventually one of us will figure something out.” 

“Oh, genius move,” she says. “One I would expect from the Cat’s Eye. You always did think outside the box, from what I hear.”

Pike jerks back from the bars reflexively. The Frumentarius grins.

“What, did you think we wouldn’t notice?” She tilts her head. “I mean, you even used your real name, Pike. That’s an amateur move.”

“What in the world is she talking about, Pike?” Thancred asks.

Pike doesn’t answer him, just stares at the Frumentarius in horror. She grins even broader.“Haven’t told your little friends your sordid secrets, have you, Cat’s Eye?” She casts a look around the room past Pike. “Didn’t tell them that they have a _spy_ in their midst. A _Frumentarius_.”

“Shut up,” Pike says fiercely.

“And not just any Frumentarius, no,” she continues, ignoring Pike. “The _best of the best_ . No better shot in the Frumentarii, and you _proved_ it. How many men fell by your bow? Must have been a hundred or more, I would say.”

“Shut your damn mouth!” Pike shouts, slamming on the bars with one of his gauntleted hands. “Or I’ll come in there and make sure you never use it again.”

The Frumentarius laughs. “No, I don’t think you will. Because that would just prove me right, wouldn’t it? Poor little kitty, tried to live with the mice. Didn’t you think they would find out you’re a predator?” She laughs some more, and keeps laughing, as Pike backs away from the bars.

“Pike?” Valliant asks, softly. She puts a hand on his shoulder.

He makes eye contact with her, and runs, to the sound of laughter echoing behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first draft of that ending scene before literally anything else in Glitter & Gold. It was right when I figured out where the fuck any of this story would be going. It's changed significantly since then, but it's still got all the fun things that made me excited to write this story in the first place. 
> 
> I really hope it came out well! 
> 
> Also I couldn't help but give Guydelot and Sanson a little cameo for a second. I love those two <3 Pike loves them too, of course, even if he thinks Guydelot is an asshole. One day I'll write about them all hanging out, I think. It would be fun.
> 
> Stay safe, y'all. I know a lot of states are releasing the stay at home orders, but if I may preach for a moment, you should still stay home as much as possible, and still practice social distancing if you must be out in public. This may be the precursor to a second wave through the United States. And to those outside the States, I don't know what your own quarantine/self-isolation breaking looks like, but do stay safe as well. <3


	6. Everybody in the Front Room's Tripping Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And everybody in the front room's tripping out_   
>  _You left your bottle at the door_
> 
> The fallout.

“I’m going after him,” Thancred says after a brief moment. “Whatever that was, he shouldn’t be alone—”

“No,” Valliant interrupts. “I’ll go. You’ll just say something idiotic and make him even more upset.” Thancred looks like he’s about to argue, so she barrels on, dropping into her Lieutenant voice. “Arenvald, make sure no one sees her. I don’t want rumors about this, we don’t need distrust right before such a big operation. Don’t listen to whatever she has to say, either, I doubt she has any interest in the truth. Alphinaud, go get Lyse, tell her it’s urgent. Everyone else, meet me at the Rising Stones. I think Urianger and Y’shtola should hear this, as well.”

“Are you sure we should be going after him?” Alphinaud says, voice wavering. “She said— _ hundreds _ of people, Valliant.”

“We all have a past,” Valliant says firmly. “Pike is our friend, we at the very least owe him the opportunity to tell us the truth. Now, go. I’ve got to track down a cat that doesn’t want to be found.”

She turns and strides out of the lockup, and meets the guard at the door. “Did you see Pike come this way?”

The guard nods. “He ran past me, and then teleported. Not sure where, though.” She casts a worrying look towards the cells. “Is everything alright down there?”

“Just fine,” Valliant says. “Thank you for your help.”

She readies her teleport spell, certain of where Pike has gone.

The cold Coerthan air whips her face and arms and Valliant curses herself for not having grabbed a cloak before she left. The coat she wears is more suited to protection from a desert sun than cold winter air. Still, it’s not a blizzard today, so she soldiers on, out of the gates of Dragonhead and into the open snowfield beyond.

The hill leading up to Haurchefant’s memorial is littered with footsteps, and Valliant can just make out Pike’s amongst them. She nods to herself, and follows them up towards the crest. There, leaned against the gravestone, is Pike, curled over his knees and shivering. 

As she nears, she notices the tear tracks streaming down his face, and her heart breaks. She knows Pike is an adult, but she can’t help but think of how  _ young _ he looks like this. Definitely not the killer that the Frumentarius painted him as.

Valliant kneels softly next to him, handing him a soft, worn handkerchief that she’s pulled from one of her hip pouches. “Here, kid. The tears’ll freeze to your face, you know.”

He takes it from her and scrubs at his face, until it’s dry and all that remains to hint at the tears is the red rim around his eyes. He twists the cloth between his hands, and Valliant thinks that it might be the only reason they aren’t shaking like the rest of him. He doesn’t speak, or even look her in the eyes.

“So, that sucked,” she says, settling into the snow. “Like, a lot.”

Pike snorts, a wet, gross sound. “Yeah.” He looks up at her, finally. “Why are you here?”

She hates how broken and small he sounds. The Pike she knows and loves, with all her heart, has a presence bigger than a treant on a bad day. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m a murderer,” he says. “A-and I don’t  _ deserve  _ to—”

“I’m going to stop you right there, kid,” she cuts in. “I don’t really care what you do or don’t deserve, alright? You’re my friend, my  _ son _ , and when you’re upset I want to help you feel better.”

There’s a brief, quiet moment. Then Pike launches himself at her, clinging to her in a tight hug that nearly knocks the breath out of her. “I was worried you would hate me,” Pike says in a choked voice, and yep, he’s crying again.

“I could never hate you, Pike,” Valliant replies. “You’re too good. Whatever you’ve done, whatever your story is, I know who you are now.” She holds him for a few moments, until his tears slow and stop. Her hands, clad in thick gauntlets, are probably uncomfortable as she strokes his hair, but Pike doesn’t complain. 

Eventually, Pike pull away, and wipes at his face again with her handkerchief. “I need to tell you—to tell  _ everyone _ the truth.”

“Glad to hear that,” she says with a half grin. “Because I already had them gather at the Stones.”

“Of course you did,” Pike mutters. He stands, shakily, and Valliant steadies him as she stands too. “Is she still—”

“Yeah, Arenvald’s watching over her.”

“Okay.” Pike lets out a deep breath. “I don’t know what her game is, but I need to find out.”

“Later,” Valliant says. “For now, let’s go home.”

* * *

Pike feels like a mess, and he knows he looks like it too. As soon as they teleport back to Mor Dhona, he begs off for a second, just to strip out of his armor and cold underclothes. It’s blessedly warm in his room, and he grabs something comfortable, and non-threatening.

After a moment of consideration, he leaves his sword where he set it, leaning against the trunk at the foot of his bed. He also unstraps the knife he normally carries on his thigh. The last thing Pike wants to look like right now is a threat.

He heads to the medical bay, where Valliant told him they would be gathering. It’s deathly quiet, in there, and all eyes turn to him as he opens the door. Pike meets them all with his head held high.

He crosses the room in quick but unhurried steps. “How are you feeling, Y’shtola?” Pike asks politely.

“I’m recovering well, thank you,” she replies. She does look good, he thinks, more color in her cheeks than the last time he saw her. “What is this about, Pike?”

Pike closes his eyes, and takes a centering breath. “I’m going to tell you all this, and I need there to be no interruptions. Keep all your comments and your judgements until the end, please.”

There’s a series of nods, and he nods back. “To begin with, you all know that I am from Ilsabard. I am not, however, from Mystel. I was born in the capital of Garlemald.”

From there, Pike tells the rest of his story. How his sister got sick. How he joined the military, and was recruited into the Frumentarii shortly after. How he left, and how his sister died.

“I made it to Thavnair, worked for a few years to make enough money to come to Eorzea,” he says. “It took a while, because nobody wanted to come to Eorzea after the Calamity. Five years, in fact. And fresh off the boat, I got swept up into all of your messes.” Pike smiles at that. “I hadn’t really thought about atoning or anything like that before. But I saw all the power I had, how I could help people, and how I could keep Garlemald from ruining any more lives. And it’ll never be enough to make up for all the wrong I did, but I don’t want that to be able to keep me from doing good now. But if you are no longer comfortable working with me, I’ll leave, and I’ll join the Maelstrom full time. I’m sorry for lying to you all.”

There’s a quiet moment, and then Valliant hugs him. “You were so young,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Pike.”

Pike shakes his head, and pulls out of the hug. “I had a choice. An impossible one, but I know...I know Elphina wouldn’t have wanted to live in return for their lives. I should have found a third option.”

Valliant nods solemnly, and she lays a hand on his shoulder. She turns to address the room. “I know there is no one else I would rather have at my back when I fight. What say you all?”

Nobody speaks. Pike feels his soul drain out of his body, and he closes his eyes, sags against Valliant subtly. She props him up without comment.

Then there’s a sound, a chair scraping as someone stands. “I don’t know if you all are aware,” and it’s Thancred, and Pike feels hope bloom in his heart once more. “But Minfilia’s father, he was the same. He was a spy for Garlemald, and he changed, and betrayed them.” He looks around the room. “We all have the capacity to look at our past, and atone. And if your way is to do good with us, Pike, I would gladly have you with us.”

Pike opens his eyes, and smiles openly at Thancred. He smiles back. “Besides,” Thancred continues, “I think we would all find ourselves in quite the predicament if you left us. Down a Warrior of Light, and the other despondent at the lack of your presence? I shudder to think of it.”

Alisiae snorts, and it’s like the breaking of a dam, sending the room into chaotic cheer. Thancred slips out first, off to track down Krile (“I’ve spent much too long on your issues, Pike, I have bigger things to deal with”), then Lyse and Alphinaud are off to rejoin the strategy meeting, with Alisiae close behind. Pike and Valliant, after checking after Y’shtola’s health one last time, depart as well.

“I don’t want to leave Arenvald alone with that spy any longer than we have to,” Pike says. “We still don’t know what she was up to. She wasn’t trying to kill me, I don’t think, or she would have struck when I was alone in Doma. Not when I was barely a malm away from backup.”

Valliant nods. “I don’t think so either. It’s not as if stealth is my forte, it’s hard to believe she didn’t see me coming—” She’s cut off by the sound of her linkpearl buzzing to life, and Pike shares a puzzled look with her. Valliant raises a hand to her ear. “Hello? Arenvald? What’s— _ she what? _ ”

For the next few seconds, all Pike hears is static. There’s only one thing that can mean, and when Valliant shakes him with a worried look on her face, he knows.

“She escaped, Pike.”

_ Well, this day just keeps getting better _ , he thinks.

* * *

_ A few hours previous _

“Doesn’t it hurt to be left behind, savage?”

If it wouldn’t require leaving the cell block, Arenvald would consider getting wax to block his ears. It’s been like this ever since the others left; constant barbs and jabs thrown at him by the woman in the cell to make him talk back. None of them have actually landed the way she wants, but the failures only seem to embolden her, keeping her guessing over and over.

He doesn’t even acknowledge her, as with every time before, simply continuing to stare her down through the bars of the cell. She sighs and flops back on the cot in the small space. “You’re no fun,” she says.

Arenvald rolls his eyes and wishes for a book. In lieu of that, though, he settles for letting his mind wander and consider his recent training. Working daily with Valliant had led him to consider his own lacking abilities, and driven him to take up a new training regimine. He was close to a breakthrough, he thought, and time spent considering where and how to improve could hardly be considered time wasted.

Or it would be, if the assassin would just stop  _ talking _ .

“You know, it’s funny,” she says. “I used to look up to the Cat’s Eye. I mean, his record was  _ impeccable _ , right up until he murdered the spymaster. And even that could be considered impeccable, really. Nobody makes it out of the Frumentarii, except him.” She sighs, vaguely wistful. “It would have been so  _ wonderful _ to be the one to take him in. Maybe I’d even get my own territory, and stop having to run around after savages in the sand.”

Arenvald doesn’t have time or ability to respond, as a sharp pain lances through his head.  _ The Echo, _ he thinks, and the world tilts, taking on a dream-like quality.

_ She arrives at the Royal Palace just before dawn, and walks quickly through the halls to Accius’ offices.  _

_ “Primus Frumentarius Accius,” she says, kneeling before the tall man. _

_ “Satre,” Accius acknowledges. “What do you have to report?” _

_ “He is indeed the Cat’s Eye,” she says. “He has one of our blades in his room, he goes by and responds easily to the name in our records, and his skills match with what I would expect. I was even almost caught, one time, but his...friends managed to convince him he was only lacking sleep. And they don’t seem to know his past. He gave no explanation as to why someone would be following him, and uses his knowledge of our systems and methods to their confusion.” _

_ “I see,” Accius hums. He turns his back to her, seemingly deep in thought as he stares out the window. She continues to kneel, despite the ache in her knee where it rests against the stone. Eventually he turns back to her. “I believe I have an idea.” _

_ “Sir?” _

_ Accius grins coldly. “If they don’t know his past, we may be able to drive a wedge between him and the Scions. Without him, they would lose one of their heaviest hitters, and shake their trust in each other. And, if he felt alone in this world, we may even be able to…” he trails off, then shakes his head. “Well, that matters little. I’ll need you to get captured by them, however.” _

_ “Me?” she says, blinking. “Wouldn’t it be better to have one of the newer operatives do it, in case something goes wrong?” _

_ Accius waves his hand, unconcerned. “He’ll see through their inexperience in a moment, and he’ll be on to us. No, it’ll have to be you. Besides...you wouldn’t fail us, would you?” _

_ She knows the consequences of that. “O-of course not, sir.” _

_ “Good. So, get captured by him, or one of his little friends. And I assume you can find a way to talk about his past easily. After that, it’s just a waiting game, until the next time Eorzea strikes. I’m almost certain they wouldn’t dare to strike without the Warriors of Light by their side.” He laughs. “And we can take him right there. It’ll be so  _ easy _. He’s given us all the tools to win this war. I should have sent him to Eorzea earlier.” _

The world fades back into focus, and Arenvald shakes off the dregs of the Echo. He’s landed on the floor, again, and it takes a moment to understand where he is. And then dread surges through him as he scrambles to his feet. One check on the cell is all he needs. The cell door is open and swinging, and it’s sole occupant is gone.

Arenvald tells Pike and Valliant this, later, when they arrive back at the Castrum.

“I’m sorry to have failed you,” he says.

“Are you kidding?” Pike grins. “You’ve figured out what their plan is! And the  _ best _ way to strike back at them. If she hadn’t escaped I would have let her out myself.”

“What?” Valliant and Arenvald say in unison. 

“I need them to think their plan is going well,” Pike says. He still hasn’t dropped the ear to ear grin. “Because I’m going to use it to take them down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried writing the Valliant and Pike scene. Found family gets me _every_ time.
> 
> Not much more to say with this chapter! Hope you are all staying as safe and healthy as you can!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I am flesh and I am bone_  
>  Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold
> 
> Careful what you put out in the universe. It might come back with sharp teeth and sharper friends.

“I hate this,” Valliant mutters to herself. Castellum Velodyna looms large over them, and Pike isn’t by her side.

“I don’t think anyone is quite _fond_ of this plan,” Alphinaud says, patting her lightly on the forearm. “But I do believe it is the best way forward.”

He’s right, of course, not that Valliant wants to hear it. No, what she wants to take a page out of Pike’s playbook and brood for a bit. However much better it would make her feel, though, she knows it would be unhelpful, so she settles for scowling in Pike’s direction.

Pike, who’s alone and away from the rest of the Scions, bow in hand, flattens his ears against his head and looks away. It takes all of Valliant’s restraint not to let her guilt show on her face. _It’s just an act_ , she reminds herself.

* * *

“You’ll have to pretend to hate me,” Pike says, crossing his arms over his chest. “That way they won’t worry about grabbing me after we take the Castellum.”

“We’re going to just let them _take you?”_ Valliant asks incredulously. 

“I must agree with the sentiment,” Alphinaud adds. “It seems foolish to let them remove you from where we have much more backup.”

“You don’t know them like I do,” Pike sighs. “If the situation turns, they’ll just run. Frumentarii—we were never meant to be frontline combatants. Getting taken or killed was to fail your mission. If you escape, then they don’t lose an asset, and you can reapproach the situation. No, we need them to let their guard down, to think they’ve _won_. And then we snatch that victory from right under their noses.”

* * *

Valliant stretches, rolling her shoulders back to settle the thick knot of anxiety that’s made its home in her chest. The gunblade on her back clatters against her armor as she does, and she places a hand on it, stilling its motion. The knowledge of its power soothes the part of her that feels out of control in the situation, and she settles a bit.

There’s a signal from ahead of her, and she lets out a deep breath, then dives into the fighting.

Altogether, things go well. Fighting comes just as easy as breathing, and it’s a simple rotation of hack and slash and activate a cartridge. The Garlean soldiers at the Castellum are rusty, she can tell, lulled into a false security by the destruction at Rhalgr’s Reach. They fall, one after another.

Unbidden, the thought rises that if things had gone differently, she might have faced Pike here. It distracts her, just for a moment, and a Garlean blade skitters across her armor. The wielder falls just after, an arrow sticking out from the weak point in his armor. Valliant makes a point to thank Pike later.

Finally, the Skulls leader, Fordola, takes the field, and Valliant grins. There’s a certain dramatic irony that she appreciates as they clash, gunblade to gunblade. It’s barely even a contest, even with Valliant’s handicap of still being new to her weapon, and she puts Fordola in the dirt just as the glamor goes up over the flag.

As the Skulls retreat, tails between their legs, Valliant lets herself revel in the feeling of a job well done. She claps Lyse on the shoulder, grinning at her, and accepts the thanks of Conrad and Raubahn. 

“Where’s our other Warrior of Light?” Raubahn asks, looking around. “It feels odd to see the two of you separated.”

* * *

“I think it’ll be best if I take up a sniper position,” Pike says. “Give the impression that there’s a rift between us, and imply I’m falling back on those skills. Plus, then I’ll be alone when they take me. No chance of a bystander getting hurt.”

“But if you’re alone, how will we track you?” Alisiae frowns.

“It’s not as if any of you could follow them without getting caught,” Pike replies with a shrug. “Thancred maybe could, but I’d rather he put all energy towards finding Krile at this time. Besides, I have a plan.”

He reaches into his mouth, fiddles with one of his molars, and pulls out a small white pill. He then opens his mouth wide to show Valliant and company his molar, opened like a jewelry box to reveal empty space.

“Tada!” Pike says, though it’s somewhat garbled by him holding his mouth open. He flips the tooth closed with his tongue and closes his mouth. “As long as it’s not bigger than this,” he continues, holding up the pill, “I can put it in my tooth. They’ll never figure it out.”

He grins at Valliant, though it fades quickly as he takes in her horror. “What?”

“Is that _poison_?” Valliant asks, her eyes wide. “Please tell me it’s not poison.”

Pike shrugs. “I wasn’t about to let them take me back,” he says. “Twelve only know what they’d do to me. Relax, though. It’s the same kind that Nanamo took. It wouldn’t kill me.”

“That is not in any way, shape, or form comforting. How did you even get your hands on that?”

“The Dutiful Sisters owed me a favor,” Pike says, like that explains anything. He tucks the pill into one of his hip bags, then continues. “I got this put in right as I was planning to leave the Frumentarii, so they won’t know about it, and hopefully won’t think to look for it. Although maybe we should add in a backup for if they do...I’ll talk to Cid about it, explain the whole thing. Hopefully he’ll understand and help us out. I think he’s been working on a long range tracker for when they find Omega, in case they lose track of it again. If we’re lucky, it’s already finished.” He grins, and there’s a faint feral edge to it. “And if not, I escape and find a way to set the place on fire. The smoke will be as good a sign as any.”

* * *

“He felt his skills would be put to use with the bow and arrow, today,” Alphinaud cuts in diplomatically. “I imagine he’s simply checking on a few concerns. You know how cautious he is.”

Alphinaud manages to extricate Valliant from any further obligations, and they meet up with Arenvald and Alisiae in a secluded corner of the Castellum.

“Any eyes on him?” Valliant asks lowly, as soon as she’s sure they’re away from any prying eyes and ears. There’s a chorus of head shakes, and she nods tightly.

The problem with this plan, Valliant has realized, is that she has no way of knowing if things are going right, or horribly, horribly wrong.

* * *

Pike wakes to a dark room, and an aching in his head.

He takes stock. He’s sitting on something solid, probably a chair, and his hands are bound behind his back. Pike tests them, flexing his wrists, and nods to himself. Manacles. Harder to get out of without breaking a wrist.

There's a faint smell of sand and heat, which tells Pike he hasn’t gone too far. It’s not cool where he is, either, and he hopes that means he’s not stuck in a dungeon somewhere. He didn’t think Accius would bring him to the palace, not where others could see him (where Zenos could see him, and he knows that a man like Accius would have at least some clue to the Prince’s strange obsession with him), but it had been a gamble.

There’s a creaking as the door to the room Pike is sat in, and with the added light, he’s able to see that it’s a simple wooden door. Silhouetted in the light is a tall, broad figure, and Pike doesn’t have to see it to know the smirk Accius wears.

“We meet again, Cat’s Eye,” Accius says, striding into the room. He lights a lantern that sits on the wall, bathing the room in soft orange light.

Pike rolls his neck, like he’s just woken up. “Accius. So _this_ is where you ended up. Quite a fall from second in command of the Frumentarii, isn’t it?”

“I _quite_ think you are hardly qualified to judge where anyone ended up,” Accius bites back tersely. “Considering your current position.”

Pike smirks and shrugs. “I’ve certainly been in worse ones, though there’s usually much more alcohol involved and much prettier men.” He nearly bites his tongue as Accius grips his face suddenly, leather clad fingers digging into his cheeks.

“You’ve gained such a mouth, though that’s to be expected from exposure to savages.” Accius shoves him away, and the chair nearly tips over until Pike puts frantic counterbalance on it. “No matter. I conditioned you once, I can do it again.”

“Clearly didn’t work the first time, but sure,” Pike says, rolling his eyes.

“Well, this time, there’s no petty attachments to work around,” Accius says, his back to Pike. “I should have had that little sister of yours killed early on, but the Primus said it would keep you pliable. Ever the fool.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Pike crosses one of his legs over the other. He probes his false molar curiously, and feels a rush of relief when he feels one of the wires of the tracker. “Are you more angry that I took the opportunity to kill him from you or that it made you look like a fool who couldn’t control his assets?”

Pike’s head snaps to the side as Accius lands a solid blow on his cheek, and the chair tips to the side and falls. Pike gives no indication of the pain he feels, just stares down Accius coldly.

“Years, I worked, clawing my way up those rotten ranks,” Accius hisses, and he plants his boot on Pike’s throat. “Until I was right there, power just an inch away. And you tore it down in an instant so you could go play hero for the Eorzean savages.” He grinds down with his boot, and Pike grits his teeth against the pitiful whine that threatens to escape as his oxygen cuts off. “Angry doesn’t even _begin_ to cover the contempt I feel for you, L’oatel.”

The boot lifts off Pike’s throat, and he gasps for air. Accius bends down, gripping Pike’s chin to force him to look him in the eye. “It gave me so much pleasure to tear those little Scion friends of yours away, and I’m sure it will only be amplified when I make you kill them with your own hands.”

Pike bites Accius’ hand, teeth tearing through the leather glove. As Accius shrieks and rips his hand away, Pike grins at him, and he hopes that Accius’ blood still lingers on his canines. “You won’t break me, Accius. I’m not a scared, poor teenager anymore. You have no hold over me. My friends will come for me, and you will see what real power looks like, and I hope you shit yourself as you beg me for your life.”

The boot to the face he gets is so worth seeing Accius break his composure.

“Friends?” Accius laughs, high and cruel. “You mean the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? Who abandoned you as soon as they saw you for what you are? Your time with the savages has truly rotted your brain.”

Pike looks away, fighting the grin that threatens to break through. _I’ve got you, you bastard._

Accius’ voice is tinged with sadistic victory as he speaks. “I thought as much. I’ll leave you for the moment, I suppose. I can begin your retraining tomorrow.”

And that’s when the door bursts open, and a large figure barrels in, knocking Accius over. “Yeah, I don’t think so, asshole.”

“Hey, Valliant. What took you so long?” Pike says, though his rough voice kills any of the humor. Alphinaud enters the room, and seeing Pike chained and on the floor, begins to free him.

Valliant plants a boot on Accius chest as he attempts to stand up. “Well, it turns out that the tracker doesn’t give an exact location. A malm radius is a lot to cover with only four people.”

“I-What?” Accius says stupidly from the floor.

Alphinaud helps Pike to his feet. “You’ve been outplayed, Accius.” Pike can’t fight the grin anymore. “Just because you’re such an irredeemable asshole that not even your mother loved you, doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” He rubs his throat. “That hurt, you bastard.”

“Alphinaud, go take care of Pike, and make sure your sister and Arenvald are okay,” Valliant says. “I’ll deal with _him_.”

“What are you—” Alphinaud starts, but cuts himself off seeing the way she hoists her gunblade. “Of course. Do you need help walking, Pike?”

Pike shakes his head, and makes sure Alphinaud exits the room before he goes. “Are you sure?” he asks Valliant softly.

There’s a brief moment, and then Valliant drives her gunblade through Accius’ chest. “We are currently at war,” she says grimly. “The time for moral objections was when Ilberd threw himself off that damn wall.”

* * *

Later, Pike finds Valliant at Porta Praetoria, brushing down her chocobo. Pike steps into the stall next to hers, smiling gently as Haribou nips gently at his braids. “Hey girl,” he whispers, scratching the chocobo lightly and earning a soft kweh in response. “How are you doing, Valliant?”

Valliant shrugs. “Not the first time I’ve killed a man, kid.”

“It’s a little bit of a different situation,” Pike says. “Not like killing in the midst of battle.”

“I’m a big girl, Pike, I can handle a little necessary bloodshed,” she replies, a little bit of harsh tone coloring her words.

Pike nods, leaning against the stall divider. He rubs his throat, still not fully better even after Alphinaud’s ministrations. “I wish we didn’t have to kill him,” he says quietly. “I don’t like that being on your hands.”

Valliant pauses in her brushing, and she sighs heavily. “I don’t like it, either, but when his death means saving potentially dozens of lives? It becomes the only choice.”

“Yeah,” Pike says. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“How are you holding up? Healing okay?”

“Just fine,” Pike answers with a shrug. “Certainly not the worst I’ve had, not even from him.”

“Who was he, anyway?” Valliant asks, returning to her brushing. “The way he talked to you...I didn’t catch all of it, but it sounded like he knew you personally.”

“He did.” Pike closes his eyes. “He was second-in-command of the Frumentarii. Theoretically, he was supposed to deal directly with the assets, give out orders, oversee training, all that. But Aper was a control freak, so we always got orders from him, at least those of us in the Capital. And when I...killed Aper, and then they thought I was dead, I think they ended up using Accius as a scapegoat. That’s the only thing I don’t think I feel guilty about, actually. None of the Frumentarii are _good_ people, but the higher ups were infinitely worse.”

“Well, the fucker deserved it,” Valliant says casually. “I don’t think I would feel guilty either.”

Pike snorts. He tips his head back up to stare up at the stars through the slats of the stable. He can just make out the tip of the Spear from here, twinkling merrily, thirsty for the bloodshed that is to come. There’s a finality to today; though the war is hardly _over_ , and there’s still the matter of Zenos, Pike feels at peace. Like he’s done composing the melody, and now there’s just the simple matter of finalizing the lyrics. 

He wonders what this song would sound like.


	8. I've Got Fire in my Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I've got fire in my soul_   
>  _Rise up, ting tin, like glitter_   
>  _Like glitter and gold_
> 
> The end of the war comes, hot and furious.

They take Castrum Abania.

They lose Conrad.

* * *

Losing a comrade always hurts.

But Pike feels...almost numb to it, at this point. His tired mind can’t even think of a way to put the guilt of it onto himself, so it just discards it and feels sad. And since he’s so used to the sadness being 90% guilt, it all sort of dissipates into nothing. Even the frankly  _ creepy _ invitation from Zenos is too much and gets filed to “process later.”

Maybe he’s just tired, because it’s one thing after another and they’re so damn  _ close _ to being done. Sure, Ala Mhigo is a figure head, just the beginning of taking the world back from Garlemald, but maybe they’ll let Pike get away from the battle for a little bit when they take it.

(He knows that’s just a pipe dream. The world seems determined to leave nearly every waking moment a battle.)

Pike runs his fingers over the words written on Raubahn’s home.  _ Liberty or Death _ . It reminds him of the conversation he had with Valliant all those months ago, when she left Doma. Third options are hard to find, he’s realized, and it’s hard not to take the words to heart.

But he thinks of a cold grave and a broken shield, and he knows it’s only right that he try.

Lyse invites him to spar the night before the battle, and Pike takes it, climbing to the top of the statue in Rhalgr’s with her. Pike points out her weak points until she tackles him to the ground with a angry cry, and they fall, laughing.

“I missed you,” Pike says, as they lay on their backs, staring up at a clear, starry sky. “After the banquet. I mean, you were always the most excited about me and Haurchefant.”

“I can’t believe you got  _ married  _ without me,” Lyse says with a laugh. “Actually, I can’t believe you got married at all. I swear the only bigger whore than you is Thancred.”

“I give him a run for his money, believe me,” Pike laughs. “Honestly, I almost didn’t. Get married, that is. Haurchefant was...we fought, actually, because I told him about me, and then he got all distant. Because he felt bad for making me tell him. Menphina, he was perfect for me. How could I not marry him?”

Lyse laughs again, and they fall into comfortable, companionable silence. 

After some time, Lyse breaks it. “So...what are you going to do after we finish this?”

“Throw my linkpearl into the Lochs, so no one can call me to go kill any primals,” Pike says instantly. “They’re so weird. Lakshmi made me fall in love with her for a little bit. I don’t like being heterosexual, not one bit.”

Lyse laughs some more, and Pike grins. For the first time in a while, he feels content. Just hanging out with one of his friends, looking down their possible impending dooms. Typical friend things. 

After Lyse collects herself, she speaks. “Okay, what are you  _ actually _ going to do? Find Thancred and shag him until he drops?”

“Why are you so hung up on me and Thancred,” Pike whines. “Definitely not. No, I just want to sleep. I haven’t had a break since...Twelve, I don’t even know. My honeymoon?” He ponders that for a moment. “Yeah, pretty much since then. Even after tracking down Thordan I had Estinien to worry about. I just want things to be stable enough for a week, so I can sleep. And maybe shag Thancred, when we’re all clean and I don’t feel like I’m about to fall apart.”

“That’s...actually sad,” Lyse says. “I didn’t realize you work so hard.”

“Hard to be one of only two people who Eorzea thinks can solve all their problems,” Pike replies. “I don’t think it’s all them, though. It’s a lot me, too. I don’t want people to get hurt if I can help it, so I keep going even when I’m tired.” He shrugs to himself. “I just want to be able to feel like the world won’t fall apart if I’m not there to hold it together. For...a week, at least.”

“I am making sure that happens,” Lyse says sternly. “Even if I have to drag all the Alliance leaders and all of Eorzea kicking and screaming to that point. For my benefit, because I need you bright eyed and bushy tailed when you help me rebuild Ala Mhigo.”

“Of course,” Pike says, giving her a salute. “Rest assured, I will make sure to brush out my tail so it’s fluffier than anything.” He winks. “Okay, enough of a break. Show me that new move of yours, so I can laugh and tell you how it’ll get you killed.”

“Laugh it up, L’oatel. You won’t be laughing in a minute when I put you on the ground.”

* * *

“Valliant, can you help with this last strap?” Pike calls. 

“Sure, kid,” Valliant says, stepping over to him. She pulls the leather strap tight, fastening the buckle with nimble fingers. She watches as Pike carefully flexes his wrist, testing the tightness, then nods to himself and gives her a thumbs up.

“Thanks, I can never get the last one right on my own.” He flashes her a grin, then picks up his sword, freshly sharpened and gleaming, and slides it into his sheath.

Valliant’s already ready, of course, because she’s had a lot more practice getting herself in and out of heavy armor than Pike has. And yet, as Pike turns to head out the door, she finds herself hesitating.

Pike tilts his head questioningly at her. “Something wrong?”

Valliant puts a hand on his shoulder, and pulls him into a hug. He tenses, for a moment, then puts his arms around her. “I promise you,” she says, taking a deep breath to keep from tearing up, “That I will not make you choose, today.”

“Thank you,” Pike whispers. He squeezes, once, then lets her go.

Decades later, people will describe their arrival to the battlefield as avenging angels, descending to visit destruction upon the unjust. Their contribution (hailed as the one deciding factor in the battle) is perhaps overblown, but none who witnessed them fight could say that they did not give it their all, and their all was terrifying.

Valliant is one step behind Pike as he rushes to the throne room, plated boots skidding as he comes to a stop, sword and shield already drawn and coated in blood from the previous battles. Her gunblade is much the same.

Zenos doesn’t even spare her a glance, eyes only for Pike, and it makes her blood boil. He smirks and draws his katana out of his stupid sheath machine.

Pike freezes for just a moment, then his eyes narrow, and he nods to Valliant. Then they charge in. Valliant kicks Zenos hard in the knee, sending him down, and she spins out of the way to let Pike in for a hit. Pike opts to slug Zenos, since he’s gone without a helmet, and his gauntlet hits true, sending Zenos’ head cracking to the side. It seems to barely faze him.

Pike jumps back, bringing his shield up just in time to let the katana glance off of it. Valliant jumps back in then, cartridges of her gunblade spinning as they charge. She jams the tip of her blade in the joint of Zenos’ armor, and pulls the trigger. An explosion rockets down the length of the blade.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Pike comes back, his sword slashing towards Zenos’ face. Zenos moves fast, spinning his katana to catch Pike’s blow, and then throwing him back. Pike flips once over in the air, and barely lands on his feet, using the tip of his blade to steady himself. Valliant yanks her gunblade free and barely ducks under the katana as it slashes towards her.

Valliant shakes herself, and jumps back into the fray.

It’s back and forth, then, Zenos getting a few hits on each of them, and them matching him blow for blow. Until Pike gets a lucky hit in, spinning to dodge the katana and slamming his shield into Zenos’ face.

Zenos stumbles back, dropping his katana to clutch at his nose as blood trickles between his fingers. Then he starts to laugh.

“Yes, yes!” He cries, eyes wild with savage glee. “Such ferocity, such tenacity! I am loath to recall how disappointed I was when first we fought...but finally, after bathing in the blood and offal of your enemies, finally you prove yourself worthy prey for the hunt!”

“Fuck you,” Pike says. His jaw is clenched tighter than Valliant thought possible. “I don’t have to prove shit to you, you monster. Just fucking die.”

“Oh, come, don’t be like that,” Zenos croons. “It fills you even now, doesn’t it? The hunger. To bite down on my jugular, to feel the warmth fill your mouth and run over even as you drink deep.”

Pike lets out a wordless screech and slashes at Zenos with his blade. He dodges easily. “Good, good! This is the beast I have longed to face! As you sharpened your claws, I too sought newfound strength!” Zenos grabs Pike’s arm, holding him still as he struggles. “But this is no place for a final contest. Come! The heavens shall bear witness to our dance!”

Valliant slams into his armor with her gunblade. “Let him go, you freak!”

Zenos drops Pike, and bats her gunblade away with an easy motion, sending her clattering to the ground. Then he turns, though not before sending a chilling smile to Pike.

Pike picks himself up off the ground and helps Valliant to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“Just fine, kid.” Valliant rolls her shoulders, shaking out the slight ache. “Come on, we shouldn’t let him get far. Who knows what he’s planning?”

* * *

So apparently, the plan was to fuse himself with a fucking primal.

Pike finds himself surprised and unsurprised at the same time. Just his luck, of course; someone would give a being of pure hatred and violence intelligence. Sure.

He’s distracted, and he has to dodge a pillar of fire as it rockets down on top of him. The tips of his braids catch, and he hastily puts them out.

“Eyes open, kid!” Valliant cries, firing a shot from her gunblade. She cleaves a portion of flesh from Shinryu, and lands next to him on the platform.

“Yeah, yeah,” Pike says, and he channels his aether into a spell, blasting into Shinryu. It—he?—shrieks, and twists in the air, coming in for a blast of fire back on to the platform. Pike curses and sprints out of the path of it, barely skidding to the side as it comes down.

He hears the whirring of Valliant’s gunblade, and he watches as she tears into Shinryu, ripping and tearing with abandon. There’s a vaguely feral look on her face, and it would scare Pike, if he didn’t know this is the same woman who was brought nearly to tears by an adorable puppy.

Valliant runs down the length of Shinryu’s tail, jumping and landing in a roll back on the platform. Pike follows it up by charging up another spell, sending it crashing down into Shinryu’s scales. It shrieks loudly again, writhing in the air.

“Nice one!” Valliant says, then cries out as one of Shinryu’s thrashes strikes her, knocking her prone. Pike thinks the wind is knocked out of her, and as she struggles to rise, Shinryu rears back for another attack. Pike looks to the side; he has either enough time to help Valliant or save himself, but he knows he can’t do both. He glances down at his shield, then runs, skidding in front of Valliant on one knee as he raises his shield to block Shinryu’s fire.

_ Please _ , he thinks.  _ Let it be enough to save us both. _

The soul stone warms against his neck, and he feels a rush of power through him. He breathes in, then out, and lets the soul stone shape his aether.

Brilliant, shining wings burst from his back, expanding to envelop Valliant, just as the blast rains down. Fire burns down on the platform, save for the small area behind Pike’s shield; he can feel the heat wash over him, stinging at his eyes, and he ducks his head lower to avoid it. As the heat lessens, he feels the aether begin to wane, and he lets it fall, the wings folding and fading into his back.

Pike rises, his sword catching the last of the gleaming sunset. “Huh,” he says, looking down at his shield. “Guess I found option number three.”

He helps Valliant to her feet, gives her a cheeky grin, then dives back into the fray with a cry of victory.

* * *

They take Ala Mhigo.

They don’t lose  _ anyone _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to make the last two chapters one chapter because I like the way the last one ended, but it also felt too short, so I figured a ~double update~ was best. I hope you all like it!
> 
> All that's left is a short epilogue, and then I get to _finally_ move onto Shadowbringers content...after a few more side works, of course. Sigh. My (self imposed) work is never done, I guess!


	9. Epilogue

Pike steps off the boat in Limsa, and it reminds him of coming here for the first time. But this time, as he walks the streets towards the Aetheryte plaza, he’s beset by greetings and kind smiles from all sides. He returns all of them, with great cheer.

The greatest greeting, of course, is from Valliant. She’s sitting on the stone platform by the Aetheryte, flipping through a book. When she spots him, she smiles, and grabs him into a big bear hug before he can blink.

Pike rests his head against her chest, and lets all of the tension he was carrying bleed out. Despite everything, returning to Garlemald on his own still hurts, still makes him feel on edge and uneasy.

“How’d it go?” Valliant asks, after they’ve teleported to Revenant’s Toll and start to make their way to the Rising Stones.

Pike smiles. “Well, actually. I think I needed to see her again, one last time. Even if it was just where she was buried.”   


“Do you want to move her to Eorzea?”

Pike shakes his head. “Garlemald was Elphina’s home. Even if it’s no longer mine, it feels wrong to take her away.”

Valliant nods, and she slings an arm around his shoulder. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks, Vall,” Pike says. “You know...out of everyone, I wish Elphie could have met you.”

Valliant opens the door to the Stones, to their home. “I wish I could have, too. I bet she had all kinds of embarrassing stories about you.”

Pike whines at her, and Valliant laughs uproariously. Eventually, he joins her, reveling in the feeling of finally, after so many years, finding home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap! I'm so excited to have finally finished this one. This is maybe the hardest work I've written, and it battled me every step, but I think I have a new appreciation for Stormblood for it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read and followed Pike's story so far! I appreciate every comment, kudos, and hit I've gotten on this fic. I hope you all enjoyed the story.
> 
> Upcoming works! It's time to talk about G'raha Tia, folks. And Valliant. I mean, what's her story? :) Please look forward to it!


End file.
